The Crane and the Falcon
by The Seraph
Summary: He was born into pain and fear, she into a life of luxury and crime. Jonathan Crane and Sakura Falcone. Made for eachother? Read to see! JonathanOC
1. Chapter I

**_The Crane and the Falcon_**

**_A Batman Begins Fiction_**

**CHAPTER I**

Night had fallen on Gotham and the threat of rain hung in the air. The Narrows were crawling with the usual scum but they cleared the grimy streets when the convoy of black cars passed.

The first was a Suburban with tinted windows, as was the last. Square flags, flapping white in the dark, bore the crest of the Falcones. The middle car was limousine, a Cadillac, and with its passing hung the steam of crime and gross sums of money not earned.

Arkham Asylum rose through the hot fog of the Narrows, foreboding to all who dare enter. At least, to most, it was.

--

"I demand to see him, immediately!"

"Of course, Miss Falcone, of course," the receptionist of Arkham said dutifully. Fear coursed through her veins as she felt her heart quail. The woman demanding entrance to the facility was not one to trifle with. Her uncle, Carmine Falcone, had half of Gotham bought and paid for, as the saying went.

This was Sakura Sophia Mirihoto Falcone, the daughter of Gotham's finest criminals, product of the interbreeding of the Gotham Mob and Tokyo Yakuza clans. Her father was Gianni Falcone, brother to the infamous Carmine, and her mother was Nyoko Mirihoto. The Mirihotos were some of the most powerful Yakuzas in Tokyo and controlled several syndicates in Gotham.

"This way, Miss Falcone," a stout but sturdy nurse said. She dared not look Sakura in the eye as she lead her to Carmine Falcone's cell. Sakura trailed behind her, followed closely by her three bodyguards. The other two were back with the cars. "Here we are," the nurse sighed after deftly navigating the maze that was Arkham.

Sakura peered through the thick glass and into the cell. Her eyes narrowed and she stepped back. "Open the door."

"But he's unstable-."

"Open the door," Sakura repeated with a snap. The nurse thought she heard the cocking of a gun and hastily keyed a four-digit code into the wall panel. With a hiss, the door to the cell slid open and Sakura stepped inside.

Her bodyguards and the nurse made to follow, but she held up a hand heavy with jewelry. "Leave us," she muttered. They complied quickly and the door slid shut behind them.

"Uncle?" she said slowly, turning to face Carmine. He sat in a padded chair, forced into a straight jacket. His eyes were on the wall and his cheek twitched every so often.

He seemed to be recovering slowly, to Sakura's delight.

"Uncle Carmine?" she said, positioning herself so that she was speaking directly into his ear.

His eyes narrowed and he struggled vainly against the straitjacket. "Who do I gotta whack to get outta this thing?" he barked. Sakura smiled, but on her pointed lips, it was more of a smirk.

"I'm not sure," Sakura replied. She leaned against the wall before realizing the dirt and dust would nearly ruin her white Chanel suit. "But I can find out for you."

Carmine shifted uncomfortably. "Sakura? How's my favorite niece?" The Italian-Japanese mix sighed. His usual greeting. Coming from him, it was quite a compliment, considering he had seven nieces, not to mention six nephews.

"Can't complain." She drummed her manicured nails on the back of the chair and frowned. "But I'm here for a reason."

"You mean other than visiting your favorite uncle?" His head twitched as he spoke and a single eyelid blinked. Sakura knew this conversation was draining him.

Sakura bit her lip. She knew what happened, and she knew who did it. But that didn't matter to her. "Why did Crane do it?"

"Crane?" Carmine twitched again. He coughed violently, "I- I wanted in. He refused." He coughed once more. "Crane. Crane," he muttered. He began to rock back and forth. "I told him I was untouchable. This was my town."

"That wasn't wise, Uncle."

"I think I scared him, Sakura." The rocking became faster. "Scare. Scare," he whispered.

"Uncle?" Carmine twitched quickly. "Uncle Carmine?" She put a hand on his cheek.

"Scare. Crane. Scarecrane. Scarecrow. Scarecrow," his voice became lower and more violent in pitch. "Scarecrow!" His eyes glazed and his teeth were set on edge. "Scarecrow!"

Sakura pulled away from her uncle and tapped the toe of her boot on the linoleum floor. "Shit," she muttered before leaving the cell.

The bodyguards stood idling at the door but snapped to attention when Sakura stepped back out into the hall. "Where is Dr. Crane?" she asked the nurse, her voice monotone.

"He's on call right now-," the nurse offered before interrupting herself, "I'll page him right now, ma'am." The elder woman shuffled off towards the front desk and the P.A. system crackled to life.

_"Dr. Crane? Dr. Crane, to the front desk, please. You have a visitor."_

--

Crane sat at his desk and sighed wearily. His glasses lay across a stack of thick documents and he massaged his temples. The single coffee machine had broken a long time ago and with the dwindling number of workers, the few doctors left had their shifts stretched. Crane didn't mind all that much. He didn't like to bite the hand that fed him, and he wasn't one to make waves.

The P.A. system made him jump to life and his body went rigid, hearing his name being called across the building. _A visitor_. That could only mean one thing. The one person who ever visited him at Arkham. The one person who wasn't afraid of what lay behind the asylum's iron doors.

--

"Yes, Mary?" Dr. Jonathan Crane said to the receptionist. The woman tilted her head and pointed to Sakura and her entourage conversing in low whispers in the light of a shaky ceiling lamp. "Ah, Miss Falcone," he said. He inclined his head in greeting.

"Mr. Crane," she returned. Crane grimaced slightly at the use of the informal title. "I expect you know why I'm here." Behind her, the bodyguards exchanged glances. They had no idea what was going on, and didn't have enough brain cells to process the information if they did.

Crane nodded, "Of course. One does not visit Arkham on a whim." The good doctor gestured towards the elevator, "After you, Miss Falcone." He pressed the dented key and the elevator arrived with a faint ding.

With a slight frown, Sakura stepped into the dingy elevator and Crane followed her. Again, the bodyguards tried to follow, but a stern glance from their employer told them to take the stairs.

--

Sakura relaxed as the doors shut and almost lost her breath as Crane covered her mouth with his own. She leaned back against the wall of the elevator and sighed into the kiss.

"I thought they'd never leave," Crane breathed, moving his hands to her waist.

Sakura's ebony hair shook as she laughed. "Watching you squirm is so satisfying, Mr. Crane."

"Mister?" Crane echoed, kissing her again. "I didn't spend eight years in medical school for you to call me mister."

"I know, Jon, I know." Sakura placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back. "What did you do to Carmine?" Her eyes hardened and Crane pushed his hair back with a frustrated sigh.

"What was necessary." His voice seemed frozen. Sakura raised an eyebrow.

"And that was?"

Crane stepped away from her as the doors slid open. Sakura's bodyguards stood panting to one side. They had run all the way down in order to meet their employer in a timely fashion.

Immediately, Crane and Sakura hardened their facades.

"This way, Miss Falcone."


	2. Chapter II

**_The Crane and the Falcon_**

**_Chapter II_**

**Many, many thanks and kisses to Blodeuedd, my one but fantastic reviewer! OMG I was so totally lifted by your review, thank you, thank you, thank you! I tried to make this as original as possible, what with all the Cranefics floating around out there.**

**This little fiction is going to alternate between the events during and after the movie and flashbacks to how Crane and Sakura met…**

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**-- Four Months Earlier --**

Carmine Falcone and his niece, the beautiful but deadly Sakura, sat in the private back booth of the former's restaurant. She picked neatly through her shrimp scampi while he tore at what appeared to be a pig's leg.

"Are you coming to the Opera 'dis year?" the elder said around bites of his meal. He patted his face quickly with the soft cloth napkin and peered over the table at Sakura.

She nodded her head and her dark eyes twinkled. "I wouldn't miss it, Uncle," she purred. Her voice had always been low, and even in her childhood and times of frustration it was soft and catlike in nature. "Besides, I have no," she narrowed her almond eyes and laughed slowly, "prior engagements to speak of this year." Her laugh was cold, unfeeling, like a bar of iron in the depth of winter.

Carmine smirked, "Of course." The engagement of which Sakura spoke was a favor she carried out for her uncle when a deal of his had gone sour and two of his lackeys and half a dozen of their friends decided to squeal to the police. It was an easy job. In. Out. Dead. Done. Just the way she liked it.

"So, how's your mother?" Carmine, despite being an ultimate criminal and an all-around bastard, he was quite attached to his family and particularly favored his sister-in-law, even in the light of Nyoko's divorce from his brother.

"She's well. Can't complain, sitting up in her palace of a penthouse with a football team of maids at her beck and call." Sakura smiled dryly. Her mother was the quintessential socialite, scheming and frozen, but Sakura loved her just the same. Besides, the woman was quite the gifted tennis player.

Falcone chuckled. "That's your mother," he muttered, taking another bite of meat. His eyes were drawn to something over Sakura's shoulder. "Ah, right on time." He rose himself from his chair and nodded his head.

Sakura turned to see a thin and pale man being searched by two of her uncle's goons. His glasses were knocked askew by one of the muscular lumps patting him down and he grimaced.

"Get outta here," Falcone spat, waving his hands at the men. They nodded and stepped back around the curtain separating the back dining area from the rest of the restaurant. "Crane, have a seat."

Crane grimaced. He was a doctor, and should be respected as such. Nevertheless, Crane gave Falcone a cold smile and sat down. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a women taking a sip of red wine.

"Crane, my niece Sakura," Falcone said, gesturing to the women sitting across from him. She sat on the right of Crane and was currently examining her hair in her compact. "Sakura, Crane works down the Narrows at the asylum."

She shut the compact with a snap and her chocolate eyes met Crane's. She hadn't expected those eyes on such a bookish character. "A pleasure, Mr. Crane," she murmured.

"Yes, indeed," the doctor returned. His eyes stayed with her for a moment, taking in her appearance. She had black hair that gleamed in the mock candlelight and almond-shaped eyes to match. Her Japanese and Italian genes had mixed perfectly, yielding the better features of both nationalities.

Falcone didn't notice the quick exchange between his niece and the good doctor and started on about the drug smuggling. "So, when can we start 'specting your goods down the docks?"

Crane cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. "The first shipments are due next week. I understand your drugs are shipped inside stuffed bears?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?" Sakura smiled to herself. Ever the stereotypical mobster, her uncle was. It was as if Francis Ford Coppola had followed Falcone for a week to accurately portray the Corleones in his movies.

"Well, as a precaution, my drugs are being hidden within stuff rabbits. I want your men to know the difference, so no harm comes to my goods."

"Course, they'll be notified." Behind Falcone, the clock chimed eleven and his gaze shifted to his niece. "You should get movin'," he said to her.

Sakura nodded her head and rose from her seat. "They'll be at the dropoff?" she replied slowly. "Along with my supplies?

"Whaddaya think I am, an idiot? Course they'll be there! You think I'd let my favorite niece out on the job without the proper protection? Come on, Sakky," he chuckled. "Now come here and say good-bye."

She smiled and nodded. The woman gracefully stepped over to her uncle and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Don't kill too many people," she said with a smirk before straightening. "Good-bye, Mr. Crane," she added as she left the restaurant.

Crane fought the instinct to watch her leave, but knew it would cost him his thumbs. He folded his hands on the table and took a sip of water. "So, exactly who's this mystery employer of yours?" Falcone said in a gruff voice, his soft demeanor in honor of his niece gone.

"I'm not at liberty to say at this point, Mr. Falcone," Crane replied.

Falcone didn't like the tone but something in Crane's eyes made him change the subject. Something fearful.

* * *

Out in her own car, Sakura revved the engine of her lime green Lamborghini and pulled out into the street followed closely by a pair of black Cadillacs. She glanced at her appearance in the mirror and, keeping a hand on the wheel, took her hair from its low bun and scratched her scalp.

After nearly half an hour of stop-and-go traffic she had escaped the dense core of Gotham and was well on her way to the drop point by the river. She had only another hour before the job began and, expecting the same traffic on the way to the Gotham Museum of Classical Art, had less than twenty minutes to organize her team and find the equipment her uncle arranged to have left for her.

She stepped out of the car with a pointed smirk. "This is where the fun begins."

**Just as a quick note, if you need a visual of Sakura, I was thinking a cross between the actresses Bai Ling and Monica Bellucci, mainly with Bai Ling's eyes more than anything else. ****As this was a flashback chapter, the next will continue the story from chapter one and after will continue the flashback and so on.**


	3. Chapter III

**_The Crane and the Falcon_**

**_Chapter III_**

**WOOT! GO BLODEUEDD! YOU ROCK MORE THAN AEROSMITH! (calms down) Thank you so much for your heartfelt and uplifting reviews. It makes me feel so good to think that at least one of my 61 hits will review for me…sigh. But no matter, one good reviewer is worth their weight in gold. Now, on with the show!**

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"This way, Miss Falcone."

The cold of Jonathan's voice always shocked Sakura like a bucket of ice water. He was such a different man when he was with others. He had, in fact, three sides to his personality. She knew of his evil side, the Scarecrow, but had never witnessed it. His inner strength always managed to fend off his alter ego long enough to get her out of harm's way. Then there was the way he acted in public; cold, unfeeling, numb. It was his defense against a world that had tortured him from birth. And when he was with her, Sakura saw him as a god, a true image of her perfect man. Intelligent, charming, with a lust for power, and blood. Like her.

She followed him without question. Despite his ruthlessness, she knew he would bring no harm to her, and what he did to Carmine must have been for good reason. Right?

Sakura glanced around as they walked, the click of her smart heels the only sound echoing off the grimy walls. The woman realized she had no idea where they were, but she put her faith in Jonathan and followed him to the end of the hall. She could see water pooling in the corners and could hear the drip of the pipes far off in the distance. This corridor was obviously unused. She wanted to ask Jonathan where they were going but dared not in the presence of the bodyguards. She knew her uncle had them wear wires, for her own protection, and didn't want to think about what would happen if he found out about herself and Dr. Crane.

"Here we are," Crane mused to himself, but truly for Sakura's benefit. He wrenched open the heavy iron door and allowed her to pass. The doctor couldn't help but catch the scent of her intoxicating perfume and his eyelids flickered.

She met his eyes as she passed, allowing him a fleeting glance. Her eyes swept back to take in the scene before her. Inmates lay below her, refining what appeared to be a white powder, cocaine perhaps, shipped via her uncle. Someone was pouring the refined substance into an open water pipe and she raised a hand to her mouth. She was torn between glee and fear. What could he possibly be doing? Who was he working for? But how deliciously wicked…

"I gather I'm not supposed to see this," she whispered over her shoulder. Crane stood behind her, his hands in his pockets and a triumphant smirk on his face.

"I think the secret's safe with you."

She breathed out slowly and watched the people milling around lethargically. "What is it?"

"A toxin." His smirk deepened. "My toxin. It exploits a person's greatest fears, stripping the mind of all defenses."

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. "Amazing," she whispered. "But is it in the water supply? How much of Gotham has been exposed?"

Crane's eyes twinkled. "Yes, it is in the water supply. But the toxin must be absorbed through the lungs to be effective."

At his words, she turned with a puzzled look on her face. "And yet, you've polluted the water…?" Her dark eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.

"You'll know soon enough-," he began, but at that moment his pager went off, resounding around the expansive room. "Excuse me," he said. His eyes were darkened in anger as he stalked away to the rest of Arkham.

Her eyes followed his form until it was out of sight behind the iron door. She could feel the stares of some of the inmates below her and wrapped her arms around her muscular frame. She knew her men could take them, and the armor-piercing slugs in her Smith & Wesson pistol would certainly do the job.

* * *

It was twenty minutes before Dr. Crane returned, with a guest in tow. A young woman with dark hair and scrutinizing eyes followed Crane into the high room. Sakura stood leaning against the railing a few feet away and her mouth spread into an evil grin. The woman was the assistant D.A. of Gotham, and quite a thorn in every Falcones' side.

"This is where we make the medicine. Perhaps you should have some. Clear your head." Crane voice reverberated and mixed with Rachel Dawes open gasp at the sight in the room. A small laugh escaped Sakura's lips and Rachel met her eyes.

She recognized the other woman immediately, but had not time to process this as she took off at a run down the hall to the elevator. Crane laughed with Sakura who gave him a wink. "I expect I'll be seeing a testing of this toxin very soon."

Crane turned and set off at a brisk walk down the corridor and Sakura saw him pull what appeared to be a burlap bag out of his briefcase. She heard the screams of the girl and her Jonathan's maniacal laugh. Two thugs entered the corridor after Crane and dragged her back onto the landing. Her eyes rolled into her head as she lolled about on the ground, seeing her greatest fears around her.

Out of the door, Crane advanced with the mask donned and Rachel screamed. He stooped and turned her head to face him. Her eyes rolled in fear and she gulps in air in panic. Sakura's smile spread until she recognized the symptoms; they were shared by her uncle. She had seen the tapes of him screaming at nothing and realized what Crane had done. This toxin, whatever it was, would become the bane of Gotham, the keystone in its downfall.

"Who knows you're here?" Crane said. His voice was now unfamiliar and rough.

Rachel shook her head and tried to hide her eyes but Crane shook her forcefully.

"Who knows?" he repeated, rising to a yell. But the girl pulled away and cried to herself. Suddenly the lights went out and Crane turned his attentions elsewhere. He pulled off his mask, ruffling his hair ever so slightly, and grinned maniacally.

"He's here," he muttered. Sakura pulled out her gun and her thugs did the same. A flicker of concern passed through Crane's eyes when he saw Sakura up and ready to fight.

One of the thugs looked around wildly before daring a question. "Who?" he breathed.

Crane looked around, still calm and collected, before facing Sakura. "The batman."

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	4. Chapter IV

**The Crane and the Falcon**

**Chapter IV**

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_"This is where the fun begins."_

It wasn't hard to spot the goods. A sleazy looking man stood in the dim light of a nearby factory, long abandoned due to the docks being Falcone territory. The man slicked back his greasy hair and adjusted his cheap suit coat. "Miss Falcone," he said in greeting as she approached him.

She didn't like the tone, or his smile, but decided he deserved to return home with all limbs intact. "Thank you." She pressed a wad of twenties into his hands in exchange for the heavy black duffel. He smirked and checked the money quickly.

"Nice doing business with ya," he called as she left as quickly as she arrived. Sakura was not, however, out of earshot and her hand lay on her gun, just in case he decided to try anything. "Sexy-ass Jap," the man muttered to himself with a smirk.

A grimace and a gunshot later, the man was sniveling on the ground, hand clamped over the bleeding stump of an ear he was now left with. Sakura smirked and slid back into her car, throwing the duffel into the passenger seat. "6th street," she yelled to the men leaning against their Cadillacs. They nodded and hastily re-entered their vehicles. Sakura was known to let her cars gallop once traffic cleared a little and some found it hard to keep up with her.

* * *

They arrived at the 6th street building ahead of schedule. Sakura was to switch her guard for the rest of her team. The Lamborghini and the Cadillacs were stowed out of sight and switched with a sing beat-up Jeep Grand Cherokee. Sakura sat in the middle of the second row of the car, removing her shirt deftly. From the front seat, a man chuckled and a pasty boy barely out of high school stole glances at her in the mirror.

Sakura flipped them both the bird and pulled on a tight-knit nylon sweater. She pulled a Kevlar vest from underneath the seat and strapped it around her torso. "Where are my pants?" she asked warily, eyeing the men in the two front seats.

The driver began to laugh again, as did the boy. K.O. Wyte and Tom Barrett, a.k.a. T.K.O. and Virus. Typical, clichéd, and funny as hell.

T.K.O. pointed at Virus with a smile and Sakura cuffed him over the head. The boy snickered and passed back a pair of pants to match the tight shirt. The pads sewn into the legs were made with Kevlar as well, and the suit itself set Sakura back a cool $50,000.

"Real cute, Tom," she spat as she pulled the pants on under her Armani skirt in order to show the least skin possible.

Virus rolled his eyes as he opened his laptop. "I told you, my name is Virus," he said through clenched teeth.

"Well you are on MY payroll, so I will call you whatever I wish."

The boy was quite for a second as he pulled out his laptop and then began grumbling to himself. "You understand I won't be able to access the security unless I'm within a hundred yards."

"Of course I do. That's why we'll be parking the car in front of the entrance."

Even T.K.O. gave Sakura a surprised look and he had been working with her since her late teens. "Are you crazy?" he exclaimed.

Sakura's eyes twinkled. "Like a fox."

* * *

_"Alright, lower yourself now. You have six minutes until the guard makes his way back."_ Virus's voice crackled over Sakura's radio and she pressed a button on her grapple gun. She was lowered slowly towards the limestone floor of the Grand Gallery of the museum. When she was about fifteen feet off the floor, completely level with the ledge that ran the length of the oval room. The lady thief snapped the gun to the belt around her waist and looked skyward. The dim stars were barely visible through the glass dome, but somehow they calmed her.

"The motion sensors?" she breathed.

_"Deactivated."_

"What about T.K.O.?"

_"How come you call him by his name?"_

"Because I like him better. Now where is he?"

_"The Gold Wing. Guard incapacitated. Now get a move on!"_

"Fine, fine, don't blow a circuit."

_"I heard that."_

Sakura scoffed and began shifting her weight until she was swing back and forth towards the ledge. With a grunt, she unhooked the grapple gun and swung herself onto the ledge. She landed in a crouch and then smirk. "Piece of cake."

All she had to do now was deactivate the plexiglass shields of the paintings and lift whichever one she pleased. Again, a piece of cake.

_"You'll see a gray box up ahead on your left. Open it and press the red release button."_

"Red release button," Sakura repeated in a whisper. She moved along the foot-wide ledge with a catlike grace until she reached the box and did what she was told. A loud noise made her jump and the plexiglass slid away, leaving the priceless paintings exposed. Sakura smirked and walked over to a spot on the ledge directly above a small, square painting of a bowl of fruit. She crouched and, utility cutter in hand, detached the painting from the wall. The woman held in warily in one had as she stowed the cutter back on her belt.

"Piece of cake," she whispered with a grin.

* * *

Dr. Jonathan Crane left the restaurant an hour after Sakura, though he and Falcone had little to talk about. He had agreed to a spot of light dinner, however, and the lobster bisque was a welcome change to the food served in the Arkham cafeteria. It was midnight when he entered his car, an older Lincoln Town Car, and pulled back onto the streets of Gotham. Traffic was dying down in the commercial sector of the city and it took little time for him to get from point A to point B, namely from the restaurant to his apartment. 

He would not spend the night in the lab at the asylum again. He figured waking face down on a grimy metal desk in the Narrows was not on the top of his To-Do List. But something caught his eye as he passed the museum on the way to his apartment, pushing all thoughts of the previous night from his mind.

"What the-?" he murmured to himself as he slowed his car. In front of the museum, a woman in a dark mask flanked on one side by a beefy man in a ski-mask were leaving the building. She held something covered in black cloth that she gingerly loaded into the trunk.

Crane didn't know what had possessed him to slow his car and pull into the motor court of the museum, but suddenly he found himself pulling up behind the battered navy Jeep. The women heard him behind her and drew her gun as she spun around. Crane put up his hands with a surprised look on his face, but to his amazement, the woman holstered the gun with a visible smirk.

"Get out of the car," she called, and Crane complied. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He straightened as he got out of the car.

The woman laughed. It was a cold sound, like branches snapping in a winter wind. "Do you normally follow people, Mr. Crane?"

Crane slowly lowered his arms and raised an eyebrow. From behind Sakura, T.K.O. came out of the driver's side door and his hand strayed to his gun. "It's alright," she said to him. Virus poked his head out the door, curious as Crane.

"Who-?" Crane began but Sakura cut him off by removing her mask. His words hung limply in the air. "Ah," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Miss Falcone. So this was the job your uncle spoke of."

She smiled. "Yes. I was Christmas shopping." Crane cracked the slightest smile and made to get back in his car. "I suppose we'll be seeing more of each other, Mr. Crane?"

"I suppose so, Miss Falcone," he replied. Crane couldn't help notice the tautness of her body beneath the two-piece cat suit.

"Sakura, Mr. Crane."

"Jonathan."

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	5. Chapter V

**_The Crane and the Falcon_**

**_Chapter V_**

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_"He's here."_

_"Who?"_

_"The batman."_

Sakura looked around, knowing there were a hundred places in the room where such a character could hide. Crane eyed the ceiling warily. "What do we do?" a nearby thug asked. His voice quavered.

"What anyone does when a prowler comes around." Sakura watched him closely as he met her eyes. "Call the police," he finished. "I believe it's time for you to go, Miss Falcone."

But the woman wasn't one to back down. "The bastard put my uncle behind bars." Crane swallowed and his blue eyes pleaded with her. He could feel the Scarecrow tearing at his insides, yearning to break lose and prey on all in his path.

"You want the cops here?" the thug said, breaking the silence.

"At this point," Crane sighed, "They're irrelevant." He never broke eye contact with Sakura, who still had her gun drawn. "But the batman, he has a talent for disruption. Let the cops wrangle him." His voice changed as he turned away from Sakura. "Force him outside, the police will take him down. Get them out of here." He nodded to the inmates, who began to be ushered out of the room. Rachel lay at his feet, rolling in fear.

Sakura glanced down at Rachel, "What about her?"

"She's gone. I gave her a concentrated dose. The mind can only take so much," he answered calmly, but his ice eyes were fixed on the dark corners of the vast room. "You need to leave. Now," he added.

But she defiantly shook her head. "I want to separate the man from the myth," she retorted, waiting for Batman to strike.

"The things they say," another thug went on, eyeing the walls, "Can he really fly?" Sakura and Crane smirked in unison.

The thug continued rambling, "I heard he can disappear-."

"We'll find out," Crane said. His gaze turned back to Sakura, "Won't we?" At his curt nod, the thugs fanned out, searching for any sign of the Dark Knight. Sakura kept herself alert and removed her jacket, tossing the cloth to the floor. She adjusted her footing, ready to spring. Crane sunk back into the shadows and Sakura did the same.

Suddenly, a window smashed open and a dark shadow slipped in. Like lightning, he struck. Two of the Arkham goons fell to the floor, and Batman made quick work of Sakura's bodyguards. Outside, the piercing of police sirens grew louder as every moment passed.

Crane burst out of the shadows, ready to strike, but Batman was too quick for him. Suddenly Dr. Crane found himself a victim of his own creation. Sakura felt herself numb as he fell to the floor, choking on the dissolving powder

"Taste of your own medicine, doctor?" the vigilante roared. His voice sent chills through Sakura's body but she couldn't allow this to happen. Batman flung Crane to the floor and the doctor's eyes widened in fear at the sight of the masked man. "Who are you working for?" Behind him, Sakura knelt and took a weapon off her most trusted guard, a man from Tokyo sent especially by her grandfather.

"Ra's- Ra's Al Ghul!" Crane choked. His eyes were clouded with terror and he tried to escape. Batman straightened and narrowed his eyes.

"Ra's Al Ghul is dead! Who-?" but a silver throwing star glanced harmlessly off his suit, leaving only a small scratch in the black suit. He rose up and looked towards the source of the throwing star.

Sakura stepped out of the shadows, gun in one hand and two more stars in the other. "Get away from him," she growled. Batman advanced and she fired two warning shots. Into his chest. But the batsuit was made of stronger stuff than she thought.

"Don't do that," he growled, advancing further. Sakura didn't back down and threw both the throwing stars at the only exposed part of Batman's body. He dodged them deftly and leapt forward, grabbing her wrist. His firm grip made her drop the gun. "I don't want to hurt you."

But her hand tightened and she gave him a quick elbow to the face. He let go of her wrist and she curled into a somersault, grabbing a smaller gun from her ankle holster. She trained it on his face and smirked. "Oh, but I have no reservations about harming you."

Next to her on the floor, Rachel moaned. "What's it gonna be, Batboy? Save the girl, or get me a cell with my dear uncle?" She cocked an eyebrow. Batman tightened his jaw but grabbed Rachel and slung her bodily over his shoulder.

"Hold on," he whispered as he left the room with a swish of his cape. He didn't miss the cruel laughter emitting from the room he just left. Her happiness would be short-lived, he thought. The police would be in the asylum within minutes and the building was surrounded.

Once Batman was gone, Sakura raced over to Crane and placed a hand onto his cheek. His skin was deathly cold. He raised his eyes to her and was sent into a spiral of panic. "No, Jonathan, no," she whispered. "It's me, it's me!" she pleaded. But his eyes rolled back into his head as he forced back screams.

"Close your eyes," she breathed in his ear. "Jonathan." Her voice was calm and smooth. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered shut. "I'll come back for you." She kissed his cheek warmly. "I promise." She could hear the police charging down the hall.

And with that, she wiped her guns quickly, throwing them down in the lower portion of the room and backed up against the wall. She screamed in mock terror, smearing her mascara with her hand. "Help! Somebody help!" she yelled, doing her best to seem the damsel in distress.

The police burst through the door at top speed, the word SWAT emblazoned on their bullet-proof vests. "Miss! Miss, are you alright?" one of them said, seeing the room was full of incapacitated men. He helped her to her feet and ushered her out of the room. Not until they were in the light of the hallway did he recognize her. "Miss Falcone?" he said warily.

She met his eyes and he saw they were hard and filled with power. "Yes?" she replied coldly. He had never heard a voice so unbreakable.

"I'll get you upstairs, ma'am- Miss Falcone." The officer had a wife and baby son. He didn't need the trouble this woman could bring.

"Thank you," she said quietly. He led her to the stairwell, and she couldn't help but glance back to Jonathan Crane as he lay on the floor, his shivers of fear shaking his body. Slowly, she followed the officer up to the lobby, where every nurse agreed that she was there to visit her uncle and never met with Jonathan Crane on her own accord.

Oh, the power being a Falcone brought.

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	6. Chapter VI

**The Crane and the Falcon**

**Chapter VI**

**Fightdirrty - (Waves) Love your name, welcome to the story! It's great to have a new reviewer! I hope you don't mind I used your mention of Carly Corinthos as inspiration for a minor, minor character…I thought it might be a bit nicer than a little blurb shout out…Please review more, I accept all things review-y!**

**Blodeuedd - I totally understand, thank you for pointing this out to me! (Bows) Thanks for your continuing compliments, they keep me going!**

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_"Sakura, Mr. Crane."_

_"Jonathan."_

Dr. Crane put the car into reverse carefully and backed out into the street before speeding away. Sakura's eyes followed his dark car with a small twinkle. That Crane, easily spooked. She shook her head and turned back to the car, which was loaded with the painting and a small, crystal sculpture T.K.O. had stolen from another wing of the museum.

"Who was that?" Virus asked as she slid into the back seat. Sakura raised and eyebrow and chuckled.

"Curious, aren't we?"

Virus shuffled uncomfortably and coughed. "Well…"

"Jon Crane. He works over at Arkham," she replied. T.K.O. nodded, but Virus opened his mouth to question her again and received a firm punch on the arm from the driver. He had been with Sakura long enough to know when to let her be, and after a heist was when she was most irritable (somewhat backwards, but that was a Falcone for you).

The young computer hacker began grumbling to himself again and began typing furiously on his laptop. The blue light illuminated his face, making him seem more pale than he usually was. It reflected off his eyes, making them an eerie but familiar color.

Sakura caught the boy's reflection in the rearview mirror and couldn't help but think of the ice orbs of Dr. Jonathan Crane.

* * *

As he drove away from the museum, Crane couldn't help but glance back at the Jeep as it sped in the other direction. He shook his head and allowed himself a small smile. The doctor didn't really expect to meet another Falcone that night, and he certainly didn't think it would be someone like Sakura.

A half-Italian, half-Japanese princess of the underworld; she was surely one of a kind. Jonathan wasn't sure whether or not he found her attractive. True, she wasn't a classic beauty, but her dark eyes, olive skin, and petite frame were something that no man could ignore, Crane included. On the other hand, Crane found no woman attractive by choice. He didn't have time for women, and they certainly wouldn't give him the time of day. Someone like Sakura would never give him a second glance if they passed on the street. And so, he wouldn't give her a second thought.

Dr. Crane sighed heavily as he parked the car and entered his apartment building. He climbed the stairs wearily, keys jingling, and succumbed to sleep in his dingy single bed.

* * *

Sakura Falcone was a night owl, like many in her line of work. The screams of the men she killed would haunt her only in her dreams, and to stay awake was to stay ignorant of her past devilish deeds. The police of Gotham knew her by sight, marked either by her exotic sports cars or her motorcade. They dared not stop her . At night, Gotham was her playground. She often raced the streets to clear her head. The coursing adrenaline focused her mind and energies. It was like a high for her. A dangerous high.

The woman pulled a box half-full of cigarettes from the glove compartment and took her hands off the wheel to light one, car still speeding along the Gotham River Bridge at ninety miles an hour. She inhaled and then let out a puff of white smoke and that always calmed her frazzled nerves. She sighed in content and slowed to a paltry sixty once she entered the residential district of Gotham's rich and powerful. She passed estate after estate. On her left was Wayne Manor, to her right, a soft green lawn ran level with the river. The city almost looked peaceful from here. Almost.

She was the only Falcone to not live in Carmine's sprawling mansion estate outside of Gotham. She preferred the hustle and bustle viewed from her contemporary penthouse. She loved to sit in the living room late at night and watch Gotham from on high. It made her feel like a god. She loved it.

Her car was filled with soothing smoke by the time she returned home. Or her apartment, at least. Sakura Falcone really had no place she could call home.

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It was business as usual for the next few days, minus the little "favors" Sakura performed for her uncle. They had become fewer and far between since her 25th birthday, when her uncle had explicitly requested she settle down and give him some more heirs. Sakura had laughed it off and pointedly refused to date many of the rich men her uncle suggested. Her love life was…nonexistent at best. In school, boys were to afraid of her, as everyone knew how her family made the money that bought her Louis Vuitton. They respected her of course, but afraid to go any further than friendship. The most popular rumor was that her boyfriend at her old parochial school had his index fingers "removed". Terribly funny, no?

But she didn't care. She had no want for a man and was perfectly content with her substitute: fast cars, fast living, and answering to no one. It was Sakura's glory days.

The week trickled on slowly. Sakura slept for a few hours after she would return home from her nights of recklessness and wake before the worst of her memories could begin to haunt her dreams. Her waking hours were spent training with her sensei she paid to have moved from Japan and painting. The first she found invigorating and the second she found relaxing. She would paint anything that came to mind, in any color, in any style.

By that weekend, Carmine Falcone had not seen his niece in a week, and intended to call upon her for yet another favor.

The ringing phone woke her from her stupor painting brought, and with a loud groan of frustration she plucked the phone from its cradle.

"What?" she barked.

"Please hold for Carmine Falcone," a woman, her voice shaking, said into the phone. Sakura rolled her eyes. Carly Corinthos, daughter of a mob grunt, and secretary to Sakura's uncle. Sakura despised the girl's sniveling way of passing through life, latching on to whomever would carry her. The only reason the girl got the job was the fake rack her college funds bought her.

"Make it quick," she muttered and tapped her toes on the ground anxiously. She felt a sudden chill and wrapped her silk kimono tighter around herself.

There was a click after a moment and Sakura was surprised Carly had figured out how to work the phone. "Sakura?"

"I'm here."

"How are ya?"

"Well-,"

"Sorry, hon, I'm pressed for time. Can ya do me a favor?"

"Always."

Carmine missed the flat tone of her voice and continued. "Great, knew you would. God, if you was a guy, there'd be nothing and nobody who-."

"What's the favor?" Sakura rolled her eyes and settled back into her chair. Carmine had what seemed like minor ADHD.

She could hear him collect his thoughts over the phone. "Favor? Oh, yeah. Well, got any plans tonight?"

"You know I don't."

"Well, don't make any."

Sakura scoffed softly and rolled her eyes again. Her uncle could be so trying sometimes.

Carmine could sense the disdain in her voice, "You being wise with me? You being wise, Sakura Sophia Mirihoto Falcone?"

"No, Uncle."

"Good."

"That favor…?"

"I'm getting to it," Carmine sighed with a growl. "I need you go down to the docks and oversee the shipments for tonight-."

"Oh, no, I'm done my share of overseeing!" Sakura spat back. Overseeing was quite possibly one of the most tedious jobs her uncle could give her. Wait for the drugs. Watch lackeys load the drugs. Confirm the loading of the drugs. What a barrel of fun. "Get Danny or-," she stumbled, trying to recall her cousins capable of the job, "or John. John'll do it!"

"No." Carmine refused firmly. "No, I want you there. The men trust you to get the job done right. Besides, I don't want that Johnny anywhere near my drugs after that shit he pulled last year." Over the line Sakura sighed. "I'm sorry, hon, but I need ya to do this for me. I don't trust that guy-," he searched for the name, "-that guy over at Arkham, you met him, uh-."

"Mr. Crane?" Sakura's voice changed as she said the words. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of their second meeting where Crane thought he was going to receive a bullet for his curiosity.

"Yeah, yeah, that guy. He wants to make sure his drugs get in alright, and I don't want him sniffing around the warehouse, you understand?" Carmine emphasized his last words with a sharp edge to his voice. Sakura did not reply. She was crestfallen at having to spend her night freezing her nose off waiting for a bunch of apes and a forklift to drop a few boxes. "I'm sorry, Sakky, but I wouldn't ask unless I really needed it. This'll be the last time, I promise. That Crane guy's only gonna oversee with you this week-."

She was tired of hearing her uncle's meaningless ramblings and if she was needed at the docks, she would need to get a move on. "Alright, alright."

"Thanks, Sakky. I'll make it up to ya- hey, hey, one of my buddies stole a dozen new Ferraris, how 'bout one of those?"

"That'll be fine."

"Alright, you'll have by Wednesday." Sakura could hear whispering in the back round and a distinct giggle. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and bit back a groan of disappointment.

"Who you talking to, Carmy?" a syrupy, candy-like voice clearly said.

"None of ya damn business, girl!" Carmine's voice was muffled as if he covered the phone when he yelled at the girl draping herself over his shoulder. Sakura could hear another giggle and cleared her throat.

"Guest of yours?"

"Sorry, Sakky, sweetheart, I've got to go-."

"Time?"

"What?"

"What time do you need me there for?"

"Oh, yeah. Eight or so alright?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I love ya-."

"Love you too."

But Carmine had already hung up. Sakura exhaled heavily and held the phone tightly in her hands. "I hate overseeing," she seethed before picking herself up and stalking off to the shower.

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**Alright, I understand it is difficult to review for each chapter, but come on. I do have a hit counter. I know there are at least 20 of you following up to chapter 5, and would really, really appreciate feedback on the story. If it's good, let me know. Anything bad, I welcome flames with open arms and I find it hard to shine without someone pushing me to. So please, save an author, write a review.**

**I hope you like this extra long chappie!**


	7. Chapter VII

_The Crane and the Falcon_

_Chapter VII_

Lieutenant Sparkles - Hey! Welcome to the story! Love your name, btw, totally great! Thanks, I tried to make this story really original by throwing in the whole half-Japanese thing.

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_The power being a Falcone brought._

Sakura paced up and down the length of the glass wall in her apartment. Her eyes were puffy and red and she clutched a wad of tissues in her hand. "This is bad, this is bad, this is bad," she murmured. She sniffed heavily and coughed.

It was nearly morning and Sakura could see the dawn stretching across the sky, sending shocks of blue and purple across the night. She didn't want to think about what had happened hours before. The batman, that voice.

_Jonathan…_

But she physically shook the thoughts from her head, shaking her head back and forth. Her short, shaggy black hair moved with her. "God, oh God," she breathed. Suddenly, the phone rang shrilly, echoing through the wide apartment.

"Hello?"

"Miss Falcone?"

Sakura didn't recognize the voice. "Who is this?" she growled.

The man on the other end cleared his throat. "This is Harvey Dent, I've been hired as the new DA for Gotham City. I hope I didn't wake you but I understand you were the witness to a crime this morning?"

"Yes. Yes, I was." She tried to make herself sound as disagreeable and dangerous as possible. It got her out of the annoying interrogations.

"I'm currently working on a case against Dr. Crane, and I was wondering if perhaps you could give me some information on what you were doing last night?" Harvey sounded like he had a severe head cold, or didn't enjoy staying up all night after receiving a call about Crane and a warning not to drink his tap water.

The woman's mind raced. She knew where this was going. Court, testifying. She would never testify against Jonathan. Never. "Last night? I was at Arkham to visit my uncle."

"Yes, the nursing staff told me so." Harvey cleared his throat again. This was quite a weighty case to be his first in Gotham. "I wonder," he began slowly, choosing his words _very_ carefully, "Why were you with Dr. Crane when you were found at Arkham?"

Sakura's throat seemed to collapse, but being a Falcone, she came with an innate sense of improvisation. "Dr. Crane treated my uncle. He approached me and asked if I wouldn't mind joining him in his office to go over any treatments my uncle might need. But apparently, Dr. Crane had other plans. He took me to-," she added a pause for dramatic effect, "to whatever hole that was." She bit her lip and prayed anything she said wouldn't be used harshly against Jon in court. "He said he needed to check up on something, then we could go to his office. That's why he brought me down there."

"Hmm, I see," Harvey mused. She could hear the scratch of pen on paper. "Miss Falcone, would you mind terribly if we discussed this further under more agreeable conditions?"

Sakura tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. "Of course, Mr. Dent. I'm rather busy for the next few days but perhaps we could schedule something after the weekend?" Her words were agreeable but her tone was far from it.

"Yes, yes, let me check my schedule," Harvey said eagerly. His colleagues had warned him about the Falcones, their unwillingness to cooperate with everyone and anyone and their utter disregard for laws or civic duty. "Brunch on Monday?"

"Why not?"

"Alright then. I'll be in touch."

"Good-bye then, Mr. Dent."

"Thank you for your time."

The line went dead with a satisfying click.

* * *

Sakura dozed off for a few hours after she had hung up the phone, only to wake with the sun in her face. She sighed to herself and let out a groan customary to a waking person. Still half-asleep, the woman went through her morning stretches to ensure her body was in peak condition for the day. It wasn't until she was taking a bite of a cup of fruit salad that she remembered why she was unaccompanied in her sleep the night before. 

Her silver fork clattered to the granite counter with the clink of metal on stone as she covered her mouth with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. She needed to see him. She didn't care if that Dent man was watching the cell, if the whole world was watching him. She needed to see him.

For the second time that morning, the ringing phone made her jump. The adrenaline coursing through her body made her tingle. "This had better be good!" she roared into the phone.

"Please hold for Arkham Asylum."

"Miss Falcone?" the voice was female but unfamiliar.

"This is she."

"Miss Falcone, would you accept a call from Jonathan Crane?" Since his arrest, it seemed Jonathan had again lost the title of 'doctor'. "He's been screaming your name for the last few hours and won't rest until he's at least spoken to you. I'm afraid he's become quite destructive and-."

"Yes, I will accept the call!" Sakura's heart pounded in her ears as she cut off the rambling woman.

"Of course, miss." The poor woman had been shocked into silence by the sharp interruption and a moment later Sakura could hear heavy breathing on the other end broken by short yelps of fear.

"Sakura?" Jonathan's voice cracked and his breathing was ragged. Sakura nearly dropped the phone in surprise and joy. Tears sprung to her eyes.

"Yes, yes, it's me, Jonathan," she breathed, the tears heavy. "It's me." Her body went slack as she sighed to him.

"My office," he cried. His breath became pants, as if he was fighting some demon on the other end of the line. "The safe. You have the key. Please." Sakura could tell he was on the edge of sanity. "The antidote. Please. No don't, get away-!"

"Jon? Jonathan?" She could hear a scuffling in the background and the nurse's voice returned.

"I'm sorry Miss Falcone but he became-," she paused, "violent. I'm afraid this phone call will have to be continued at another time." Sakura could sense the smirk in her voice and bristled.

"If you repeat one word, one word at all, and you and your family will not live to see the sun go down. Do I make myself clear?" she spat, each word so sharp you could cut yourself on it. The nurse gasped in horror. "Do I?"

"Yes, Miss Falcone, yes, yes." The nurse was now stammering, her blood pounding in her ears.. This was where Sakura shone as a person of evil; intimidation gave her a high like driving or stealing from high security vaults and museums.

"You will destroy whatever recording was made of our conversation immediately. I want all guards and cameras nearby and inside Dr. Crane's cell deactivated by the time of my arrival."

"Yes, Miss Falcone, yes," the woman sniveled. Sakura grinned evilly and narrowed her eyes.

"Good."

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Kinda short, and didn't really come out the way I wanted, but I hope you enjoyed it. Big build-up for things to come, so the next two chapters should be whammies (a double helping of Jon and Sakura, one at the docks and the other at Arkham).


	8. Chapter VIII

_**The Crane and the Falcon**_

_**Chapter VIII**_

**Blodeuedd - Ha, I know, I dancing around the subject of Jon and Sakura's "extracurricular activities" and haven't really found a spot to stick it in. But this is a T rated fic so don't expect too much, heehee. Btw, love the Jonandsakura dish, brilliant! And your fic is perfection in the least!**

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_"I hate overseeing."_

It was half past 8 when Sakura arrived at the docks, this time in a blood red Aston Martin Vanquish. She knew the shipment wasn't in yet, judging by the lax security by the warehouse and the men smoking in a lose circle just outside the door. As Sakura stepped from her car, she could see Crane standing by himself a few feet beyond the laughing men.

"Boys," she inclined her head in greeting. They straightened and tried to look alert instead of half-numb with the cold. Sakura was easily a head shorter than the smallest of them. Despite her paltry 5'3" stature, her hard eyes commanded respect wherever she went.

"Miss Falcone," they said in somewhat-unison before returning to their cigarettes and light conversation. Sakura brushed past them, her eyes on Crane's turned back.

"Jonathan, good to see you again."

Crane turned with a light smile but his eyes were ice. "Sakura. I knew your uncle would send someone to keep an eye on me." He extended a hand for her to shake, but she did not take it. He grimaced slightly as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stuck one in her mouth.

"Cig?" she held the pack out to him, but Crane held up a hand in silent protest.

"No, thank you.."

"Your loss," she sighed, putting the pack away and lighting the cigarette. A cloud of white smoke escaped her lips and were quickly dispersed by the cold wind assaulting the docks. Crane clenched and unclenched his hands before crossing his arms tightly across his chest. Sakura smirked to herself until she broke out into a light laugh.

Her laugh reminded Jonathan of the painful days of high school. He heard that laugh every minute of his early life. "What?" he spat, rounding on her. His movements were mechanical, calculated, like some bird of prey.

But he didn't scare Sakura. Next to nothing could. "Cold yet?" she chuckled, staring him in the eye. It was a frosty moment between them before he broke into a light smile, knowing she meant no harm and was only joking.

"How can you do this?" he replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Sakura could see his glasses were fogged from his breath which hung in clouds of moist vapor before being blown away by the brutal wind.

She took another drag from her cigarette. "Do what?" Jonathan sensed an almost defensive air in her tone, and knew his simple question could have a hundred painful answers. The psychiatrist inside him wanted to know more, to pry apart her brain, to see what made her tick. To see what made her scream. But the last...that was the Scarecrow talking.

"This." He let an ungloved hand gesture back to the men and the warehouse behind him.

Sakura relaxed, a breath of smoke coming in a full, steady stream. "Oh, this." She flashed him a toothy smile, to show no hard feelings for the misunderstanding. "This is the first time I've done this in two years. I've long graduated from overseeing."

"Then, why are you here?"

"You've already answered that."

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. "Ah. You're here to keep an eye on me."

"Yes. You must have struck a chord in my uncle. He rarely sends his best."

For a moment, he was at a loss for words, dissecting what she had just said. Was it meant to be threatening, an example of her strength? Or could she simply be making another wisecrack in an effort to lighten him up?

"Alright, boys, let's get this moving! Jimmy, Mike, get the forklifts!" Jonathan's head snapped up to see Sakura walking away from him, her posture perfect, barking order at the circle of thugs. The men scuttled away quickly to their usual posts. "I want these sorted into two piles, bears and rabbits and I want it done quick!" She pointed to the piles of crates inside the truck that was pulling up to the warehouse, fresh from being loaded at the docks.

Jonathan decided to follow her, in case he was needed. He inwardly scoffed at the thought. He was not one for physical labor, and he knew by his appearance, everyone else knew that as well. "Jon?" Sakura's voice rang out as she turned to see him walking towards her.Jon. No one had addressed him with such informality since his school days. "Jon?" Her voice was softer this time, seeing his eyes clouded with hard memories. Tentatively, she put a hand on his arm.

He pulled away before her gloved fingers could touch him. "Yes?"

"Who's coming to pick up your shipments?"

Jonathan had to say she recovered fast. Only the slightest flicker of confusion crossed her eyes as he pulled away and her voice was hard and cold when she spoke. He cleared his throat, "Another truck should be here before midnight. The drugs will be taken to the drop in the Narrows."

"Good, it's the same with us." She turned her head to peer over her shoulder at the men loading the crates of bears onto forklifts. "Let's go, double time! I want the rabbits unloaded and away from the trucks!" she called to the men. Jonathan felt a course of adrenaline as Sakura's voice changed in volume and shut his eyes as she yelled, as if the loud tone physically hurt him. "If you would kindly step to one side-," she made to push him out of the way of a forklift, but grabbed him by the collar before he could move any further.

"Excuse me-."

"Don't move."

"But you said-."

"Don't move," she repeated. Her eyes were wide as they stared straight ahead.

"Sakura-."

"Don't move. I'll tell you in a second." Her eyes fought against the darkness outside the sphere of light and she could just see a flurry of movement. "Where's your car?"

"What does-?"

"Where's your car? I don't like to repeat myself so listen the first time!"

"Over there." He pointed off to his right where his car was parked in the shadows of the warehouse.

"Alright, I'll have to give you a ride," Sakura muttered to herself, "You'll never be able to outrun them in that pile."

"Exactly what is going on here?" Jonathan's blue eyes widened in anger and confusion.

Sakura nodded to a small rise a few hundred yards away topped with a wide abandoned warehouse. "The cops. They're getting ready for a raid. You move another inch to the right and they'll have a nice photo to blow up for the Gotham Times. They've already seen me, but I've got enough lawyers at their throats-."

"The drugs need to be moved."

"Yes, thank you," Sakura spat back sarcastically. She had had about enough of Jon's self-important air and his condescending tone. "I'll have someone strip your plates, we'll just lock up whatever drugs have been unloaded and move the rest in the truck."

"Strip my-?"

"Yes, strip your car's license plates. You don't need the fuzz knocking down your door with a warrant, do you?" Jonathan clenched his jaw in reply. "That's what I thought. Now come on, I'll need some help getting this moving. I'd say we've got ten minutes, tops."

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**Oh, I am so looking forward to writing part two of this chapter. Sakura and Jon, high-speed chase through Gotham in an Aston Martin. The one thing any movie is missing. Mwuhahahaha!**

**Ahem…review, pretty please.**


	9. Chapter IX

**_The Crane and the Falcon_**

**_Chapter IX_**

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_"You have the key."_

With a shaky hand, Sakura returned the phone to its cradle, her heart pounding in her ears, drowning out all other sounds of the clock ticking neatly and her Siamese cat mewing on top of a barstool. "The key," she murmured, searching her mind. "The key. The key, what key?" Her eyes clouded with confusion, then widened in realization. "Of course," she muttered before she nearly flew out of the kitchen and into the foyer.

"Come on, come on," she mumbled to herself, her hands searching wildly through her seemingly-bottomless Louis Vuitton messenger. The jingle of keys rang in her ears. "Thank you, God." She pulled them out and kissed them with a triumphant smile.

To the average person, they were simply a ring of keys. Two dull, cold iron and the other a polished bronze. In addition there was a circular keychain, similar to the iron keys, emblazoned with the double 'A' of Arkham Asylum. But the other side was what interested her and she turned the iron disk over in her slim fingers. Three numbers were engraved crudely into the other side and they smiled up at Sakura Falcone.

Originally, the key ring bore only the iron keys and the Arkham insignia. Originally, it belonged to Jonathan Crane and was the spare set to his apartment and his office. Sakura knew how much he loved her visits after a long, hard day at the asylum. Her quite musings were interrupted by the beep of a nearby clock. It was only a matter of time before that Dent character started questioning Jon.

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Sakura arrived at the Narrows in record time, her car screeching as she turned every corner. Every time she ventured into the island ghetto envious looks were drawn but evaporated as quickly as they came. No one could even look at her without threat of dismemberment or death. Only one man had ever managed to do more than look. 

She had opted to make the visit unaccompanied and her hand was on her gun as she climbed the steps leading up to the asylum. Her footsteps echoed off the marble of the lobby like rain on a tin roof and the nurses idling by the desk hurried away as quickly as they could, seeing Sakura's eyes smoldering with a deadly fire. Everyone at Arkham knew or at least had an inkling that her relationship with the Head of Psychiatric and Staff was more than recreational, but none had the courage, or stupidity, to confront either of the lovers. They knew why Sakura was there, what she was planning to do.

"I want to see him. Now!" she barked to the nearest nurse. The woman jumped and nodded, her friends giving her apologetic and worried glances. Her keys jingled nervously in her hands as she unlocked the door to the hallway on her right. Her laminated nametag read 'Sylvia'.

Once she had locked the door behind the seething woman, Sakura cleared her throat. "I'd like to visit his office, first, if you don't mind."

"Of-," the woman stuttered, looking to the elevator she was about to enter. "Of course, Miss Falcone. This way." She gestured away from the elevator and down the hall, but Sakura needed no direction to Crane's office. The shorter woman led the nurse, who shuffled along behind her, almost running to keep up with Sakura's surprisingly long strides.

Sylvia paused at the door to Crane's office, which Sakura opened with her key. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Sakura disappeared into the room, locking the door behind her. All Sylvia could do now was wait.

The room was no mystery to Sakura. Even in the dark, she could navigate the corner office with expertise. She knew the desk, from past experiences too painful to relive at the moment, she knew every piece of rigid furniture that mirrored Jonathan in every respect. Severe, straight backed chairs, a flat L-shaped desk, a file cabinet, and bookcases flanking the curtained window and lining the back wall. Such a familiar sight almost brought a breath of relief to Sakura, but she had no time.

The safe. She knew it was here. Jonathan had told her he kept a safe in his office. One night, she had asked if he carried proper protection at Arkham. He had replied that the doctors and nurses were only allowed a taser, while the guards carried nightsticks and firearms. Sakura's worried eyes persuaded him to accept a gun from her extensive inventory of weapons_."I'll keep it in my office safe,"_ he had said. That night, Sakura slept a full six hours without so much as a flicker of a dream. Knowing he was safe brought her peace. Perhaps that was why sleep had eluded her for the past weeks. She could sense an uneasiness in him, an anxiety that set him on edge. He had even refused her the week before, insisting he had work to do.

Sakura ran a hand down the exposed wall behind the desk, searching for seams in the plaster. She found none and turned to the desk. Nothing. She sighed in frustration and sent a disgruntled glare towards the door. She could hear the nurse tapping her toes anxiously. Sakura had half a mind to put a bullet in the back of the woman's head, but again, she didn't have the time, and couldn't afford half the nursing staff screaming over a little blood.

_The bookcase_. The voice in the back of her mind. She hadn't heard it in years, since her first heist, the last time she felt fear. But again, she had no time.

She turned back to the bookcase the wrapped the corner next to the desk. Slowly, she ran a quivering hand down the side of the faux wood, feeling for any sort of handle hold. There. She found the smallest space no more than an inch from the wall and slipped her fingers in, pulling back the bookcase with a small grunt. It swung on squeaking hinges and she glanced towards the door window of frosted glass. No movement. She was safe, for now. At her feet, the white baseboard ran to where it met the open bookcase, broken only by a square of wall lighter in color. A grin lit up Sakura's face as she crouched. As expected, a small dial was imbedded in the white plaster and she spun it to the according numbers on the keychain. With a click, it opened.

_Jonathan, you genius._

Three things lay inside the safe. Two vials of clear liquid and a dusty gun.

* * *

"Here we are, Miss Falcone," the nurse said, eager to be rid of the underworld princess. "I'll just wait here." 

Sakura nodded, her eyes downcast. In her hand, the two vials felt cool to her touch. "The cameras are deactivated?"

The nurse looked perplexed for a moment before nodding. "Yes, yes, they short-circuited earlier today. We don't know how-."

"And the guards?"

"They are on their break," she admitted sheepishly.

"Good." Then Sakura disappeared into the white cell, raising her dark eyes to the figure in a padded chair and straightjacket. A muscle in his face twitched as he tried to smile, but the onslaught to his senses proved too much to combat. "Jonathan," she whispered after a moment.

"I knew you'd come. You said you'd come." The look in his eyes was almost too much for her to bear. "Did you bring-?"

"Yes, of course, I did," she breathed, pulling up a metal chair from the corner. The woman held out her hand, showing the two vials and a syringe she had lifted off a nurse's cart on the way to his cell. "Are they-?"

"Antidotes?" he finished for her. She nodded mutely and he smirked. His mind had returned much quicker than those of his other victims; he had been inoculating himself regularly with the ever-changing antidote, but he had forgotten in the excitement of the past few days and his last dose had yet to wear off completely. "Yes. And this one is permanent vaccine to the toxin_**."**_

**_

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**Alright, that's the end of that visit - NOT! HAHAHA, can't wait to write Crane's escape! Will be fun, yessirree bob…ahem, reviews and flames alike greatly appreciated.**


	10. Chapter X

**_The Crane and the Falcon_**

**_Chapter X_**

_"I'd say we've got ten minutes, tops."_

_**

* * *

**_"Boys! We have a situation. Mike, Jimmy, lock up whatever you've got in the warehouse. Everyone else, load the rabbits back on the truck and get everything to the second drop!" Sakura barked, dragging herself and Jonathan over to the men busy unloading the trucks. She pulled over a nearby thug, "Chris, I need you to strip Mr. Crane's plates," she said into the man's ear. He nodded his head and hurried away to do as she asked. 

A twinge of anger made Jonathan wince as he heard himself being referred to as 'mister' again. "Actually, I am a doctor," he said, tapping Sakura on the shoulder. She whirled around with a quirked eyebrow.

"Amazing. I'm ecstatic for you. Now, if you don't mind, I have to get nearly a dozen men out of here, yourself included, and will probably have to buy myself a new back windshield to my car before the night is through." She took a breath and dipped her head, extremely pleased with herself, and stalked away. Sakura checked her watch and tapped her boot, "Okay, everyone, shut up and listen! Gotham's finest are waiting to raid just behind that warehouse, so I strongly suggest you drop what you're doing and leave now!"

Jonathan could see the fear flicker in the men's eyes as they hastily shoved the last of the boxes back into the truck before rushing to their own cars. The blare of sirens began to sound over the hill and Sakura could easily see the flashing red and blue of the police cars. They were closing the distance fast, but the trucks were already onto the highway and well on their way to safety. "Okay, it's up to us to keep them away from the trucks," she muttered.

"Us? What do you mean us?" Jonathan exclaimed, raising his hands in exasperation. But Sakura replied by grabbing him by the hand and pulling him to her car.

"Get in!" she yelled, slamming the door to the car. Seeing no other option, Jonathan complied and slid into the leather passenger seat. The engine hummed to life as Sakura backed it further into the darkness. Slowly, all they could see was red and blue lights and the swarming of half a dozen cop cars. "I suggest you buckle up," she added, lowering her voice to a whisper. Jonathan hastily did so, not knowing exactly how Sakura hoped to get past the fleet of police and outrun them as well.

"Hey, we got a car!" an officer yelled, gun raised as he inspected Crane's abandoned Lincoln.

"Numbers?" another replied.

The first officer swore loudly a kicked the back tire. "Bastards stripped them. No ID inside either."

"Warehouse is locked tight. We'll need a warrant to get in there. If only that Falcone hadn't seen us, we could have her at the scene."

Crane could almost smell Sakura's smirk, "Idiots," the woman breathed. Out of the corner of his eye, Crane could see her slowly pull on a pair of leather racing gloves. He rolled his eyes. Very cinematic. All they needed now was some macho theme music. She continued moving slowly and lit herself another cigarette. "I hope you like Bon Jovi," she whispered, sliding the _Slipper When Wet_ CD into the dashboard.

The silhouettes of the police grew sharper as they drew closer to the car shrouded in darkness. Sakura quietly shifted gears, her heeled foot still hard on the brake. "Hey, hey, sergeant!" the outline of a cop stopped short a few yards in front of the car. Jon tensed and he could see Sakura tighten her grip on the wheel. "Is that a-?"

But the roar of the engine and the sudden, blinding beam of the headlights stopped the man short. "_You Give Love A Bad Name_" screamed from the stereo and Sakura smiled. "Hold on," she yelled before slamming her heeled foot down on the gas. The Aston Martin lurched forward and the police were forced to dive out of the way. Within seconds they had passed the stunned officers and the car was accelerating past sixty miles an hour. Sakura let out a whoop of excitement as the car screeched around the corner of the warehouse and the police began to give chase.

Badly aimed gunfire sounded in Crane's ears as it blew past the car and the woman in the seat next to him squirmed in delight, "The tires, men, shoot the tires!" she called out the window with glee, a maniacal smile on her face.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jonathan yelled over the roar of the stereo, his eyes wide and glasses askew.

She laughed loudly, one hand on the wheel and the other clutching her cigarette between two fingers. "Are you kidding? They need all the help they can get!" She clamped the cigarette between her lips and turned up the stereo as far as it could go, "I hope you like Bon Jovi!" she yelled over the trilling of the guitars.

"You said that already," Jonathan growled through clenched teeth, but Sakura didn't hear him. She was bobbing her head with the music and laughing with every cracking gunshot. He had seen this behavior many times, in Arkham nonetheless. The junkies. He didn't deal with them anymore. But Sakura surely seemed as if she was on something mind-altering. "Adrenaline," he cursed under his breath. In his career, he had only attended to several, but they were some of the most dangerous of any of his patients, though more a danger to themselves than anyone else.

"We're going have to chance it in the Narrows. Cops won't follow!" Sakura called, making a hard turn to the right. Jonathan slid in his seat, his shoulder crashing into Sakura's. She turned her head to find his face merely inches from her own. Her face relaxed and for a moment the loud music seemed drowned out by the beating of her own heart. It seemed that he leaned into her for a moment, closing the gap.

"Watch the road," he breathed in a throaty voice.

His breath tickled her ear, but Sakura turned back quickly, her long earrings jingling. "Sorry," she muttered, mostly to herself. But she had nothing to apologize for. She had made the run from the Falcone warehouse to the Narrows dozens of times, once blindfolded even. Up ahead, she could see the leaning brown buildings of the Narrows leering at her from beyond the bridge.

"Let's hope they don't raise the bridges," the man next to her muttered. He seemed to be adjusted to the high speed and Sakura's erratic driving, but inside his nerves leapt every time she avoided curbs and cars alike by centimeters.

Sakura laughed, but this time it wasn't one fueled by adrenaline. "They wouldn't dare."

Luckily, for both our villains, the latter was correct.

* * *

**Jen! Welcome to the fic! Thanks so much for taking the time to review, I really really appreciate it. You make me feel warm and fuzzy. Hope you liked, and don't be afraid to share opinions! I luuuurve them!**


	11. Chapter XI

_**The Crane and the Falcon**_

_**Chapter XI**_

**_

* * *

_Lieutenant Sparkles - Teeheehee, don't we all. Wink, wink.**

**Katherine - Cue major waving. I hoped the Bon Jovi song wasn't too cheesy, I was listening to it in the shower the other day and was inspired. And Sakura's adrenaline addiction is going to be a big factor later on in the flashback chapters. I'm so glad you (and everyone else so far) like her! I hoped she wasn't a Mary Sue!Wow, I just watched the trailer for Breakfast on Pluto and OMG. Cillian Murphy as a mentally-challenged (?) Irish boy looking for his mom…WOW, HE'S STILL SEXY, EVEN WITH THE AFRO.**

**On a different note, I am going to be tweaking the storyline just a tad to set up a little "heart to heart" between Rachel Dawes and Sakura. Hope that doesn't anger anybody or whatever…**

_**

* * *

**_

_"I knew you'd come."_

_**

* * *

**_

"If you don't mind injecting me-," Jonathan said with a small smile. He wriggled in the jacket to emphasize his predicament. Sakura fingered the syringe and nodded. She was no stranger to needles. In her college years she was addicted to heroin and nearly died when she overdosed at a metalhead party in Detroit. Prior to her heroin habit, she had peddled cocaine at high school and had become addicted herself. She had attended rehab twice before her 24th birthday.

She flicked the syringe and made sure there was no air in the vial before pulling her chair up next to Jonathan. With her free hand she pulled a switchblade from her boot and cut a slice out of the thick cotton jacket. Jonathan winced as the needle punctured his skin but he was immediately grateful as he could feel the final effects of his toxin dissipating. Sakura gave his arm a loving pat before meeting his eyes. "Now you."

"Don't you need this for replication?"

But he shook his head. "I have more samples in the lab. I'm expecting a high price for them." He tried to sound nonchalant and unfeeling, his usual monotone, educated tone hanging in the air. But the flicker of emotion in Sakura's dark eyes made him soften. "I want you immune to this. It'll make me sleep easier."

She slowly raised a hand to his face and touched his cheek tenderly, not saying a word. "How can I refuse such a cute face?" she said with a hint of a smirk. His lips, paled by the threat of Arkham, spread into a slow smile that was rarely afforded to anyone. Sakura leaned forward and gave him a short kiss on the lips before pulling back and rolling up her sleeve.

"It's been a while since I've shot up," she muttered, glancing at the syringe with a dark smile. "Hope I haven't forgotten how to do this." Jonathan straightened his head and narrowed his eyes. Sakura's drug-soaked past was never a welcome subject. He didn't know her during her darkest days and did all he could to keep her from relapsing.

"Get a new needle," he said sharply, his eyes now ice.

Sakura looked back to him, startled by his tone. "What?"

"I said, get a new needle. Sharing needles leads to-."

"Don't give me you M.D. bullshit!" she spat, the needle held in a trembling hand. "I know what sharing needles causes, alright? I'm not an idiot, and I'm not a patient, so don't treat me like one! Besides, you don't have anything that I could possibly catch, correct?" She took a breath before continuing, allowing her words to sink in. "And if you did, well, now would pretty irresponsible time to tell me, _Doctor_ Crane."

Jonathan bristled at her final statement and he had to keep himself from snarling back. "I still have trace amounts of the toxin in my blood. I don't want any of it in your system, understand? I don't know how your body will react, and you having a seizure isn't on the top of my To Do List," he said in the calmest voice he could muster. Then there was silence with only Sakura's chocolate eyes forcing themselves against the mirrored blue orbs of Jonathan Crane. Outside the door, she could distinctively hear the nurse cough. She set the vial and the syringe down on the metal chair with an angry clang before wrenching open the door enough to slide her thin body out.

The door shut behind her and Jonathan sighed to himself. Hot, angry tears bit at the back of his eyes and he was forced to blink profusely to keep them from spilling. Sometimes Sakura made him so angry he wanted to throttle her in her sleep, douse her with a concentrated dose of his toxin, anything to make her break, to finally see the fear in her eyes again. He had only seen it once, before they became an "item", when he had convinced her to sit a therapy session. He had been the one examining her. But the door reopening made him snap back to the then and now.

The quiet shutting quietly made him quirk an eyebrow. Quiet was not Sakura's way. She would storm and scream, punching walls until her knuckles bled, break in her new Ferrari during rush hour. This was not Sakura. This was someone else. "Good afternoon, Dr. Crane."

"Good afternoon. You would be?" he replied, trying to sound civil and unfeeling. His eyes glanced towards the window of the door. He could see a figure, pacing by the look of it.

_Sakura._

"Harvey Dent. I'm the new District Attorney of Gotham City. I hope you don't mind answering a few questions about the events of last night..?" Dent noticed the chair by Crane's seat and the vial and spent syringe next to it. He took out a small notepad from his binder and jotted something down. "I understand Ms. Falcone paid you a visit a few moments ago?" he began, not waiting for an answer to his first question. He moved to the corner and dragged the other chair in front of Crane and took a seat.

Crane's eyes stayed on the door. She can't come in here now. They'll question her for sure. Then he turned his head mechanically to face Dent. "Shouldn't I have a lawyer present for any form of interrogation, Mr. Dent?"

But Dent took the retort in his stride. "I understand you were declared insane by a Dr.-," he checked a sheet quickly, "Strauss, but you seem quite lucid right now."

"And?" Crane growled.

Dent smirked, "And this wouldn't have to do with the drugs you just took or Ms. Falcone's visit?"

* * *

Rachel Dawes stood in the hallway, having accompanied Dent on his first visit to Arkham Asylum. She had awoken from her sedated sleep not an hour before, and the new D.A. had convinced her to make another trip to Arkham, despite her misgivings and the incident the night before. She surveyed a loop of video over a television in a bank of security feed TV's. 

"What did she give him?" she said to the nurse next to her. The woman was shaking in her tennis shoes, knowing that saying anything would be considered testifying against Sakura Falcone. "Ma'am?"

The woman shook her head. "I- I don't know," she stammered truthfully. "She went into his office, and came out with two vials of something. I don't know what it was." She prayed she hadn't said anything that would cost her life. Onscreen, Sakura and Crane's kiss was being replayed.

Rachel narrowed her eyes and flared her nostrils, arms folded tightly across her chest before setting off at a quick, angry pace to the maxium security wing. Her footsteps echoed off the tiles walls and she avoid the leers of the dozens of patients she passed. She reached the cell with a small flush rising to her cheeks and her blood began to boil. "I'm not surprised you're here," she said slowly, eyes on Sakura, standing only a few feet away. The other woman turned slowly, a manicured eyebrow raised.

"The same can be said of you, Miss Dawes." Sakura's arms were crossed in front of her and her diamond jewelry winked in the light. She grinned coldly, knowing that Rachel had seen her the night before, and that she was not the damsel in distress she portrayed herself as.

"Don't smirk at me, Falcone," Rachel spat, taking a step forward. "You're going down with Crane, and no amount of money or lawyers can save you from a life behind bars!"

But Sakura only raised a finger and ticked it back an forth with a sigh. "It's amazing how naive the assisant D.A. can be, isn't it? So young and sheltered from the horrors of the city you try to save." Sakura took a step forward as well, but it had much more effect and held much more malice. "Understand this," she continued, "No matter how hard you try, no matter how much hard evidence you have, I will never spend a night 'behind bars', as you so eloquently put it. Just accept that every time you come gunning for me, I'll always be bringing more heat than you can muster up."

"We have you on tape, Falcone. Whatever you gave Crane will be analyzed within the hour, and you will be arrested for-."

"Please, Miss Dawes, your voice tends to give me a migraine. I don't want to have to turn to my illegal kilos of cocaine fresh from Colombia or the refined heroine I have lying around to get rid of it," she teased, watching Rachel's face tighten with glee. "Now, I understand you said you have video evidence of the exchange between myself and Dr. Crane?" Rachel supplied no answer but only grimaced at the word 'exchange'. "A small hint for the future, Miss Dawes. Keep your key evidence under lock and key, because now it's long gone from Arkham." Sakura began to walk away from the cell, disheartened that she hadn't been able to finish her visit.

"You'll never get away with this. I know about you and Crane! Your connections can't save you anymore!" Rachel called after her.

Sakura's calm voice floated back to her as she disappeared around a corner. "Good day, Miss Dawes."

_**

* * *

**_

**Oooooh, Rachel knows. What shall ensue? Cookies to whoever guesses what happens next!**


	12. Chapter XII

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The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XII

Halfmoonglasses - Hey, glad you liked! And I was hoping I got Crane in character, but left enough to your imagination too…Wow, I never expected everyone to like Sakura so easily, I was ready to defend her from insults of Mary Sue-ness …

But thank you, Katherine, for pointing out that the drugs make her more believable. We learn more about her past habits in this chapter.

* * *

"They wouldn't dare."

* * *

Sakura glanced down into her mirror, seeing the police cars stop at the bridge. One even ventured forward for a moment before they all scattered away. She could see the blue and red lights disappearing over the other side of the river and the sirens died away. "Call your man," she said, turning the car down a dark street lined by crooked apartments. Jonathan's eyes stared out into the blackness of Narrows.

"What?" Again, Jonathan wasn't paying attention to what Sakura was saying.

She rolled her eyes and tossed him a cell phone, "Call your man. Tell him to go to the second drop." Jonathan felt the phone hit his lap and lowered his eyes. It was a design he didn't recognize, flat, black, and rectangular. Probably a stolen prototype. "It's in the Latin Quarter, the old Catholic church."

"Right," he muttered, flipping open the phone and punching in the number of the man picking up the drugs. He repeated what Sakura had said before handing the phone back to her. The car had now slowed to a halt in the middle of the street. The only light came from the glowing dashboard and the one unbroken streetlight a little down the way. Jonathan hadn't noticed the music had died away. His eyes flew back to the window as he stared out at a particularly dilapidated building with shabby shutters and grimy windows.

Sakura followed his gaze and was silent for a moment. She could sense something was amiss and could see foggy memories welling in Jonathan's eyes. "Bad memories?" she asked with a hint of compassion in her smooth voice.

He didn't answer for a moment. "Drop me off at Arkham. I have work to do."

--

Sakura took the back route to Arkham, and could see the looming entrance to the basement parking garage. The car ran almost silently, making barely a ripple of sound in the empty garage. She maneuvered the car onto the ramp leading to the floor above, but she stopped halfway up the concrete slope, eyes frozen. "Damn," she swore.

Jonathan's head snapped up to see the familiar red and blue lights floating over the concrete dividing the garage from the street. He could clearly see the sharp outlines of police running back and forth. "Go back down," he muttered, eyes still straight ahead. Sakura nodded, and put the car in reverse, silently cursing herself for using a bright red Aston Martin to oversee drug running. "Get out," he continued, hand straying to the handle of his own door.

But Sakura eyed him sharply. "Trust me," he said, eyes meeting hers. She nodded, and the both got out of their seats. "Let me drive." They both rounded the car and slid into each other's seats without a word.

"You sure as hell better have a plan," Sakura spat, slinking down in the passenger seat.

"Don't worry, I do." He carefully drove the car past the ramp and into the blackness of the underground parking garage. The headlights of the Aston Martin pierced the darkness and Jonathan could just see a guard's booth where a sentinel sat inside sleeping. He jumped to attention as the Aston Martin crawled passed, but, seeing Dr. Crane, simply waved and nodded off back to sleep. "Alright, my spot's up ahead. If we can make it to my office, we'll be home free."

He parked the car with the utmost care, making sure not to bang the door on concrete wall lining his parking spot. Sakura, on the other hand, showed no such care and Crane winced at the sound of metal tearing on concrete. A smear of red paint would stay on the wall for months afterwards. "What happens if they pay your office a visit?" She kept her door open and leaned in, opening up the glove compartment.

"I'll be prepared."

Sakura snatched two handguns out of the car before slamming the door. She tossed one to Jonathan, who caught it clumsily. "Here's to being prepared," she said sarcastically.

--

"Now, you'll have to pretend to be a patient of mine. I do some psychiatric work on the side, and I'll just say an appointment ran late. You'll-."

"Pray they don't see my face?" she offered, an eyebrow raised. Jonathan smirked and nodded. "Even if they do, it'll take a lot of guts to finger me and the whole police force combined has less guts than road kill," she sighed. They continued walking, their footsteps echoing off the cement until they reached the steel-enforced elevator. Jonathan removed a key from his pocket and inserted it. He watched Sakura out of the corner of his eye as she calmly lit herself another cigarette. Nothing seemed to frazzle her. But something had to. Everyone had their fears. And Jonathan intended to find out those of Sakura Falcone.

With a ding, the elevator door opened without a word and Jonathan set off down the corridor. Sakura fought to keep up with his long strides as he navigated the back halls of Arkham. Her Japanese-styled hair rippled as they ascended a short flight of stairs and Jonathan pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door. He held it opened for her, and as she passed, he couldn't help but catch the scent of Sakura's enthralling perfume. His eyelids fluttered, but his thoughts dispersed as quickly as they came.

"Sit," he said, motioning to the cliché couch set diagonally in the corner of the room. A leather arm chair was placed adjacent and Crane snatched a notepad and pen off his desk. Sakura took a seat, but instead of lying back, she sat cross-legged facing the armchair. "Alright, I'm sure the police are on their way. Any investigations start with the Director, namely, me," he said with a slight air of arrogance.

Sakura rolled her eyes and nodded. "So what, are you going to start analyzing me?"

"Well, I'll need something for my notes, in case they begin a physical investigation with my office." He decided to shock her into submission and jumped right into the therapy. "I understand you are addicted to adrenaline?"

She looked puzzled and straightened slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're an adrenaline junkie. You thrive on adrenaline and to get, for lack of a better word, your fix, you force adrenaline with risky behavior, i.e. dangerous driving and illegal activities."

The woman shifted uncomfortably, wondering when the police would be knocking on Crane's door. But she recovered quickly. "That makes sense. I've had addictions since I was fifteen, but this adrenaline your talking about seems to be my least dangerous." She didn't care about her drug-seeped past and decided it would set Crane off on a field day of interrogation she didn't mind submitting to.

"Oh?" He jotted down a note on his paper. "And those would be?"

"Well, I've been smoking since I was thirteen, I did cocaine from the time I was fifteen to nineteen, then I was sent to rehab. It was in college when I started on heroine. My uncle sent me to rehab again, and I've been clean ever since," she said in one breath, pulling a cigarette from her purse. She lit one and took a drag with calm eyes. "I think that about covers it."

Jonathan cleared his throat and crossed his legs, jotting down every word she said. "That's- that's," for a moment he was at a loss for words, but the beating on the door made him stop and stand.

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Alrights, review, review!

OMG HONORS ALGEBRA 2 SUCKS


	13. Chapter XIII

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The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XIII

Katherine - All in good time, all in good time.

Blodeuedd - Love the scoreboard…heehee, picnic of insanity…priceless

Lady Draculea - Thanks so much, I'm so glad I got Jonathan right. That was always one of my big fears…

Ailias Kurai - First off, love your name, does it mean anything? And yes, you have to be crazy to like Alg 2. There's this kid in my class who gets like 107's on his tests and I'm like "YOU'RE AN ALIEN!" And yes, do not mess with Sakura Falcone…cue ghetto snapping fingers…

"You're going down with Crane."

Sakura rounded the corner and paused, straining to hear any clue of someone following her. Hearing none, she sighed and leaned back against the white wall, biting her lip to keep back a frustrated scream. Jon could be so frustrating. He made her want to vow off men forever and go on a spree of castration, but then he could turn around and make her feel better than she ever could alone. But his stubbornness made him more attractive to her.

"Miss Falcone?" she heard a voice call down the hallway for her. She slid up against the wall and crept next to it, her heels making no noise at all. She looked like a spider, creeping along so slowly as to make no noise or sign of her presence. Slowly, very slowly, she peeked half her face around the corner before ducking back behind the wall. The quick glance told her that Dent was back in the hallway and Rachel was staring at the door to Jon's cell. "Is she gone?" Dent said.

"I expect so," Rachel replied flatly. "She left a few minutes ago."

"Ah. Well, I wanted to ask her a few questions but they'll have to wait 'till Monday," he sighed, running a hand through his thick, brown hair. Rachel turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Monday? What's happening Monday?"

"I'm having brunch with her. We're going to go over the events of yesterday."

Rachel scoffed before laughing to herself. "How the hell did you get an appointment to talk with Sakura Falcone? No, better question, what the hell possessed you to ask her?" She unfolded her arms and took a step towards Dent, her eyes serious.

"What do you mean?" Despite being the DA, he was still quite virgin in the ways of Gotham.

"I mean, the last one of our guys who spoke to her ended up at the bottom of the river. He asked too many questions and raised too many eyebrows Falcone-wise."

"Well I guess I won't be ruffling too many feathers then. I can't afford to back out on this. She seemed reasonable when I spoke with her-."

"Reasonable!" Rachel spat, throwing her arms in the air. "She just told me that my evidence against her was just stolen by her goons! Whatever Crane's been planning, she's in on it!"

Dent raised an eyebrow, "Struck a nerve, did I?" he chuckled. "And I'm not quite sure that she is working with Crane. All witnesses last night said she was screaming in terror when they arrived-."

Again, Rachel cut him off. "Bullshit, it was an act and you know it. And Crane is more than her close friend, if you catch my drift," she muttered angrily. Around the corner, Sakura narrowed her eyes. She had heard enough. In silence, she slunk away and out of Arkham.

--

The apartment seemed empty to Sakura, it's monochrome coloring had become more of an eyesore than anything else. Her Saluki, barely a year old, bounded up to her and yipped once or twice. The silver tags on his collar jingled and Sakura gave it a small smile and a pat on the head. "Hello, Dragon," she muttered, dropping her car keys in a bowl. They clinked together with the dozen others.

Sakura sighed heavily and hung up her coat, moving sluggishly as if through water. Her body felt oddly heavy and she lay down on the chaise lounge, Dragon close behind, kicked off her shoes, and dropped her purse on the floor. She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears and the warmth of Dragon curling up beside her was enough to send her into a deep slumber. This time, the memories came slowly, broken at first, and then steady and clear as day.

"Don't kill me, please don't kill me!" An older man pleaded, clutching a tattered arm riddled with bullet holes. He squirmed on the ground, trying to pull himself further away from his pursuer. "I got kids, lady, kids! Please!"

Sakura stood over him, her dark irises glowing against the white of her eyes. It was raining and the blood from the man's arm sloshed around her boots. Her hair had been long then, reaching past her breasts, dripping wet and flush with her leather coat. Her eyelids flickered as she emptied her clip into the man's head, right between his eyes.

It was done. Her first job. She had asked for it. She had **wanted** it. She had proved herself. Still in college and a murderer. She felt the adrenaline course in her veins. It reminded her of the heroine. The electricity, the rush.

"I didn't rat, I swear!" This time it was a greasy goon of her uncle's who tattled to the police. "It wasn't me, I never done it! I don't know how they knew, but it wasn't me!" He was handcuffed to a pipe in a dank room. The light overhead swung back and forth slowly. The click of a switchblade opening filled his heart with fear and Sakura advanced. His right index finger landed on the floor and the blood curdling scream echoed off the stone walls.

That one always got her. Jimmy Legs. He wasn't the first to rat. And he wasn't the last. Sakura's eyes opened as she gasped hollowly for breath. Tears stung her eyes as she sat up. Dragon scuttled away at the sudden movement, his claws sounding like rain on a tin roof as he passed over the tile kitchen floor. It was dark out. She glanced to the silver clock on the wall and then glanced at her watch. It was past eight. She had slept longer than she had in weeks. Her neck cracked as she gingerly moved her head while she stretched like a giant cat, the memories fading away.

From the street below, the whining sound sirens reached her ears. She could see the red and blue of the police cars reflecting off the glass windows of the building across from hers. Sakura stood slowly and went over the window, seeing a long train of police cars tearing away down the wide avenue in the direction of the Narrows.

But a sudden, rhythmic buzzing drew her away. She slowly reached into her purse, the origin of the buzzing, and pulled out her cellphone.

"Talk," she muttered.

"Sakura!"

"Jon?" She snapped up, her back straight and her eyes wide. "They're letting you have another call? What's that noise?" She could distinctly hear what sounded like muffled screaming and general panic.

"Get out of Gotham." His usual monotone, emotionless voice wasn't the same. There was a certain edge to it Sakura couldn't place.

"What? I'm not leaving, I can't-."

"Get out of Gotham," he repeated, this time the edge was more dominant. "The toxin is being released tonight and I want you out."

Sakura blinked a few times and said nothing. "No." He was a psychiatrist, he should have known that would be her answer. She heard him sigh heavily and almost growl in return.

"Don't do this, Sakura-."

"In fact, I'm going down to the Narrows right now, Crane. A large fleet of fuzz is on their way and my interest is peeked. And you know what happens when my interest is peeked."

"Sakura, it's not safe here! The inmates-."

"I'll see you in a few minutes, you can tell me then," she crooned before shutting off the phone. She stared at it for a moment before hearing a familiar jingle. The Saluki stood in the archway leading to the kitchen. "That was fun, Dragon."

The dog whimpered slightly and cocked his head as if in response. Sakura stood and grinned. "Exactly," she said while walking over to the locked gun closet.

**Review, review, review! Next chapter- Again a flashback, and an actual therapy session with the one and only Jonathan Crane.**


	14. Chapter XIV

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The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XIV

Katherine - 'Catch my drift' love it, love it, glad I made you smile. And making Jon and Sakura cute…sigh, wish I had a Jon…goes off and pouts

* * *

"I think that about covers it."

* * *

Jon swallowed slightly and stood, putting down his pencil and notepad where he was sitting. He donned an irritated look before wrenching open the door. Just as he met the eyes of the first police officer, he realized how questionable Sakura looked, smoking in his office and positioned the way she was. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

"Dr. Crane?" the first officer barked, holding up his badge. The man didn't wait for an answer and instead peered into the room. He raised an eyebrow at Sakura before looking back to Crane.

"We're not interrupting anything, are we, doctor?" The second officer continued in an equally gruff voice.

Crane straightened up quickly and pursed his lips. "Besides a breakthrough concerning the mental health of my patient?" he shot back, gesturing to Sakura. The two men looked to her again, and she replied with a glare that could stop a Grizzly.

"Ms. Falcone," the first said with a small nod. He didn't miss her foot slowly moving back and forth like a pendulum. It was the heel that scared him, sharp and four-inches high. He had heard about the guy stupid enough to rat on the Falcones; he lost all his fingers before suffering death from severe brain damage caused by what appeared to be a woman's shoe heel. The entry point had been his eye.

But Sakura didn't hear him. She merely turned her attention back to her cigarette and her thoughts. She hadn't expected Crane's psychiatric methods to be so abrasive; he cut right to the chase and told her something no one she knew had the spine to tell her. But somehow, he was refreshing, telling him her dark past was refreshing.

Crane was still at the door, staring down the police. The first looked as if he wanted to enter, but the second tugged at his sleeve. "Sorry for disturbing you," he muttered. They dipped their heads in farewell and Jon slammed the door in response.

"Well then," he sighed, spinning back around. "Today was eventful. You can find your way out?" His droning edge had returned and his eyes were dark and shielded. Sakura furrowed her brow and took another drag from her cigarette. Crane winced as the stench of acrid smoke brushed his nostrils.

"I wonder, would it be possible to-," Sakura paused, searching for the right words. She met his eyes as she spoke. "To continue what we've started here."

Jonathan felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He blinked several times in return. He had no idea what she could possibly be insinuating. Had he said something, done something? Did she think he _cared_ for her? What was more- she was strong, beautiful, and invincible. She was a goddess in comparison to himself. What could she possibly want with him? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And he wanted nothing from her. At least, nothing he couldn't get for a decent price. "And that would be?"

Sakura's lips curled into a smirk. She could almost see his thoughts mirrored in his eyes. But no blush crept into her cheeks, no evidence of any remorse for bewitching the doctor so. "The therapy, of course."

Jonathan blinked again, licking his lips slowly. "Of course," he echoed, crossing the room and lowering himself back into the armchair. "Now, where were we," he muttered, his posture erect and stiff as he glanced down at his notes. No muscle in his body moved, but his eyes darkened. "Yes, your past drug abuse. Anything else you would like to add?" Normally, in a normal therapy session, he would set the egg timer in the drawer of his desk to 60 minutes and warn the client his services cost $400 an hour. But this was no normal session.

"Not particularly," she said, blowing another stream of smoke, this time away from Crane. "Cigarettes, cocaine, heroine. Can't get worse than that."

Crane nodded his head in agreement and jotted down another note on his paper. "Do you regret it? The drugs?" He looked up through his short locks of hair as he scribbled neatly on the yellow-lined paper. His eyes were clearing as he danced towards his favorite question.

"No. I've made my mistakes. I've learned from them. That knowledge is priceless." Her sentences were short, calculated. Like bursts of gunfire. Again, Crane scribbled another note or two. "I think you need mistakes to survive. In this city, at least."

The doctor paused and met her eyes. "I agree." He gave her a small, toothy smile. She couldn't help remembering what a vampire looked like. "Do you remember how you first began abusing drugs?"

"Yes. 10th grade. My cousin Alberto, he's Carmine's son, was supposed to take me to the movie theater to meet my friends and his. Uncle Carmine asked him to check in on the cocaine shipments. Being the boss' son, no one batted an eyelash when he took a kilo. Let's just say we never made it to the movie theater."

"And how is your relationship with your cousin now?"

"Well, he's just plain psychotic. I thought everyone in Gotham knew that."

Crane nodded, not to agree but to make her feel more at ease. "Do you ever fear your family?" He was getting close, only a question away. She would be a good test subject; strong, stubborn, the adrenaline in her veins would make for an interesting mixture with his new toxin.

Sakura glanced up, startled. She had never dwelled on the question before. In all her years, despite the criminals and crooks she had grew up with, she never feared them. "Never. I know it may sound strange, but I trust them. Every member of my family. Despite the Falcone name, all it entails, everyone of us would die to protect each other."

Crane was startled by her reply. He pretended to be writing avidly, while truly trying to think of a way to end the therapy. He couldn't continue. The last thread of decency in him wouldn't allow it. "I'm sorry, Sakura, but this must be continued at a different time." He glanced at his watch, "Arkham closes within the hour, you should be on your way."

Sakura stood and Crane followed. She followed him with her eyes, wondering why they had stopped so soon. It had felt so good to have someone to tell this to. "Again, I apologize, but I will not be available this week. The senior staff are preparing for the annual Arkham Charity Ball at Wayne Center next Saturday and I am afraid I will be quite busy with preparations."

"Alright. I'll be in touch, then," she murmured, turning to go. But Jonathan caught her arm. She looked back in surprise, feeling a tugging at her heart as his slim fingers wrapped around her wrist. "Jonathan?"

"You'll need this," he replied slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he pressed a business card into her hand. "Now you'll be in touch."

* * *

Oh man, I see, I see, a BALL in someone's future! WOOT I sense major Crane action on the horizon!

Next chapter - The Narrows and Sakura has yet to be immunized! GASP


	15. Chapter XV

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The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XV

* * *

Katherine - Oh yes, a fantastic dress indeed :) lol, I want to be a fashion designer O.O … But, sadly, no ogling, sigh. As for the stilettos, I always had the thought of a kick to the head while the kicker is wearing heels bouncing around. Now I get to use it! Happy reading!

Blodeuedd - Yeah, I thought the whole "I did drugs, deal with it" episode between them was cute and awkward on Jon's part, but in a good way. In regards for the fistfight, I'm afraid that you'll have to wait, but I PROMISE it'll be in there, with a little Batman on the side.

* * *

"You know what happens when my interest is peeked."

* * *

Detective Flass stood by the side of the road that led over the bridge and into the Narrows. A forgotten club sandwich was clutched in his hand, lettuce and mayonnaise dribbling onto the asphalt. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, tense and nervous. He and his partner, Jim Gordon, were about to enter the Narrows in its darkest hour.

The partner in question, however, was ducked inside the squad car, yelling into his radio. Over the crackle of the speakers and the scream of sirens, both men heard the rev of a motorcycle engine. "Hey, buddy! You're not getting through here! Sorry, pal-!" Flass began, waving his arms for effect. The black and white motorcycle screeched to a halt in front of him, while Gordon merely shook his head and continued calling inside the car.

"You heard me buddy, there's some bad stuff going down and-," Flass continued, but the cyclist slid up the shield on her helmet and her blazing eyes made him stop. "Ms. Falcone?"

"I'd greatly appreciate it if you would let me pass," she purred. Flass looked around. There were nearly half a dozen squad cars idling nearby, waiting for the okay to enter, not to mention the teams of SWAT roaring towards the bridge.. This wouldn't be easy. She'd need to fly to outrun them. He didn't miss outline of a Glock beneath her jacket. "Detective Flass?"

"Just go. I'll cover for you. Get wherever you're going fast, SWAT's on the way, and your little damsel act won't get you anywhere this time around," he muttered, shaking his head. Over Sakura's shoulder, he could see Gordon getting out of the car. "Go now, boss."

Sakura was startled for a moment. _Boss_. That word was familiar. But it had always been Carmine Falcone on the receiving end. She wasn't even first in line to take over, she couldn't possibly be boss. Behind her, the yell of more sirens jolted her, and she sped off, kicking up dust and dirt and burnt rubber. Gordon straightened up, watching the cycle speed away before turning to Flass.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"You don't wanna know."

* * *

Sakura sped over the bridge and a quick glance into her mirror said that the cops had gotten the 'OK' to proceed into the Narrows in force. She had minutes to find Jon. No doubt Arkham was a war zone from what she heard.

Sure enough, the streets themselves were crawling with men in bright orange jumpsuits and the few cops who had ventured in first lay dead or dying in the gutters. Families were running for the river and the inmates of Arkham were washing forth like an evil flood. "Shit," she cursed, turning down an alley. There was no way she would find him without being raped or killed first. He was either the last to leave or the first. She guessed the former, and tore off down a side street. Sakura Falcone had an idea.

* * *

Jonathan Crane was one of the first out of Arkham. His black heart nearly skipped a beat in anticipation, but then the back of his mind remembered Sakura. She wasn't safe in Gotham. He made the call, and it backfired. He cursed loudly, startling his men. He should have known. Sakura wasn't one to take orders. But now here he was, approaching the one and only Ra's Al Ghul, ready to align with the devil himself.

"Dr. Crane, I should have known," Ra's said in clipped, aristocratic tones. Jon never liked him, but he was the boss. "Yours, I suppose?" He nodded at the inmates running rampant in the streets.

"Yes."

"A nice touch. The Narrows is beyond saving now." He smirked to himself and turned a gas mask over in his hands. The man was seated in the cargo hold of a stolen SWAT truck that had been smuggled in more than a half an hour prior. The back doors were open and he looked down on the tall doctor.

"When do we call in the ransom?" In the back of his mind, Jon thought he heard the squeak of tires. He clenched his jaw. Hallucination? Never a good sign.

Ra's smirked more strongly. Jon could see the other members of the League of Shadows tense and move closer. Another bad sign. "We don't, Mr. Crane." The men moved like lightning and in a second Crane was almost lifted from the ground by the crushing force of two men holding him by the arms. He knew a struggle would be futile. These men were built like brick walls.

"Technically, it's _Dr. _Crane," a voice said, confident and strong over the echoing turmoil. Sakura stepped out of the shadow of a support beam, a small smirk on her face. She had planned to climb to the station above and search from there, but instead, Crane met her there.

Ra's looked up at the new addition to his merry band. "The girlfriend, no doubt. Quite clichéd, I might add," he chuckled stepping out of the truck. Sakura kept walking forward until she was in reach of the League. Jon said nothing, only staring in disbelief at her. He wanted nothing more than to yell for her to run, to do as much as he could to save her. But it was no use now. She had walked right into the lion's den.

"Now that I've met you, I am, however, somewhat surprised," he continued, a cold laugh on his lips.

"Surprised?" she echoed, taking another step forward. Two men filled the gap behind her quickly.

"Well, _Dr._ Crane doesn't look like your type."

The men smirked at each other, as did Ra's. Jon flared his nostrils and tried to move, but found the use of his arms was lost to him. Sakura's eyes hardened and her hand strayed to the gun. In a flash, both her arms were behind her back and the gun clattered to the ground. Jon could only raise an eyebrow when Sakura showed no sign of struggle or resistance. _What is she doing?_

Ra's stooped and picked up the gun. "Again, I am surprised, Miss-?"

Sakura couldn't help but smile. "_Falcone_. Sakura _Mirihoto _Falcone," she spat, and the look in Ra's eyes allowed her a small cheer in her mind. In Gotham, she was a princess, and in Japan, she and her family were like criminal gods.

"And the penny drops," Ra's murmured, turning from Sakura. "You are of the intelligent sort, Crane. But I fear your respect for the mind and disinterest in the body will be your downfall. You see, the two walk hand-in-hand. Without one, you can never win." Crane raised his head, his eyes flashing. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Ra's had tricked him. Ra's had _used_ him. "You certainly have the mind, Dr. Crane, but physically, I'm afraid you are lacking."

"That's why he has me!" Sakura barked before kicking up her leg high enough to hit the man holding her hands square in the forehead. She spun, throwing a punch at the nearest man that sent him reeling. They had underestimated her. Her damsel in distress act had worked yet again.

* * *

A quick note, I've decided to make this a trilogy, and after the end of the movie verse, I'll start part two which focuses on what happens to Crane and Sakura after. Than part number three will include quite a lot of Batman _and_ Bruce Wayne.

Well than, shall jump right into chapter 16. Review, all!

Btw, saw Harry Potter opening night. It was good, not the best movie in my opinion (was too short to do the book justice) but the acting and shots were superb!


	16. Chapter XVI

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The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XVI

A/N - 'Love's Divine' by Seal does not belong to me.

* * *

"I'll be in touch."

* * *

Jonathan Crane hated the Charity Ball. Just a chance for the pitying rich of Gotham to dance around and shake his hand. He hated the tuxedo he was required to wear. It was itchy, tight, and he hated the color. Black always made him look more pale. It was just one of those days where he wished for something he never had. He wished for a friend.

"Ah, yes, Lily, this is Dr. Jonathan Crane. He's the director at Arkham!" a loud, snobbish woman with an upturned nose and the nip/tuck façade said, waving a glittered hand at Crane. She held a frail looking woman with glossy silver hair in a firm grip as she pulled her towards him. "Dr. Crane, this is Lily Bridger-."

"Excuse me, ladies," he muttered coldly, sidestepping both of them expertly. His hand strayed to his tight collar and he slipped a finger between the starched cotton and his skin. He wanted no more than to douse the entire party in some of his more _potent_ medications and set fire to the building, but he had to restrain himself. After all, this wasn't the Narrows. He had no one to cover for him here.

"Don't mind him, Lily. Elaine told me he was a bit standoffish…" the woman's voice trailed off as he worked his way through the crowd of old men and 'altered' women shaking hands and chatting about the weather to the dance floor where several older couples were waltzing to an old Sinatra song.

Then he saw her, through the flutter of pink fabric and black coat. At first, he didn't think it was her. But a second glance at the woman with dark hair and emerald green dress said otherwise. She didn't see him at first. Instead, she was occupied with signing the guestbook at the front and handing her black mink to man at the coat check.

Her dress was long, velvet by the looks of it, split around the waist by a thick black piece of fabric. Small, intricate lines of curling black spread from random points on the dress, making parts of it seem like they were covered with delicate lace. Her hair was swept back into a smooth, oversized bun held by a black diamond clasp. She truly looked the part of Gotham royalty.

Then her polite smile became genuine. She had spotted him. He found himself frozen to the spot, hardened by her dark eyes. "Hello, Jon," she murmured, giving him a small smile. He opened his mouth to reply, but the blonde woman from before had pounced.

"Ah, Dr. Crane, I see you've met tonight's big philanthropist!" she crowed, gripping Crane's arm like a bird of prey. "This is Sakura Falcone," she continued, smiling through her whitened teeth.

"We've met," Jon muttered, speaking slowly. He pulled at his collar again and cleared his throat. "Would you excuse us, please?" He turned to the woman and gazed at her with level, icy eyes. She shuddered at the malice she saw mirrored in them and hurried away without so much as a good-bye.

Sakura licked her lips and smirked. "Smooth, Crane," she laughed, snatching a glass of champagne off of a passing waiter's tray. She took a sip, feeling the bubbling alcohol drip down her throat and smacked her lips.

"You're tonight's biggest donator?"

She eyed him over the rim of her crystal flute, "Yes."

"I didn't see you on the donation list."

"I made my donations late. As in last week."

"Oh." Crane raised an eyebrow, eyeing her suspiciously. "Well then-," he shuffled his feet, "You look very nice." The compliment felt foreign on his tongue, almost a sour taste.

Sakura knew his words were only to make her feel more comfortable. "Thank you," she replied softly, taking another sip of her champagne. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Jon laughed nervously, giving himself a self-conscious once-over. He couldn't remember the last time someone had positively remarked on his appearance. Again, he tried to loosen the collar, but failed miserably. "It's this collar," he muttered viciously, fighting the instinct to rip it off.

"Here," Sakura put down her drink and her smooth hands reached around Jonathan's neck. "Let me help." She undid the first button of his shirt and expertly tied his bowtie over it. Jonathan froze as her hands grazed his bare skin and he could only stare into her averted eyes. "There," she pulled back, satisfied.

He said nothing and she picked her drink back up. Sakura never flinched at his display of emotion (or lack thereof), but inside she was a mess of questions. _Why is he just standing there? Why does he have to be such an uptight prick about everything?_ More streamed behind her eyes, but she drowned out the voices by downing the rest of her drink in a single gulp. "Shall we sit?"

Jonathan straightened and cleared his throat. "Oh, there is assigned seating."

Sakura smirked. "I know." She playfully took him by the hand, expecting a sweaty, clammy palm, but instead found a delightfully cool one. Again, Jonathan was at a loss for words from the electricity of her touch. "Aside from the honor of being tonight's biggest donator, I get to be seated next to the Director," she sharpened every consonant as if it were a throwing knife, "of Arkham."

Jonathan threw her a sideways glance before smiling warily. "Well, you've planned ahead, haven't you?"

She nodded, and together, they sat. Sakura was silent for a moment, eyeing her menu and drinking deeply from her second glass of champagne, before putting down the crystal flute sharply, making the golden liquid jump and slosh. "You honestly don't know why I'm here, do you?"

Jonathan looked up quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do-?"

"You don't understand why I tossed over half a million dollars at your loony bin?" she snapped, facing him with blazing eyes. Jonathan was, for the first time in his life, clueless.

"I honestly can say that I do not-."

"You must be the stupidest man I've ever met! And I grew up with Alberto Falcone!" She wasn't yelling, but she wasn't exactly whispering either. Sakura huffed loudly and crossed her arms, angrily staring at the floor. Jonathan could practically feel the heat radiating off of her as he mouthed soundlessly like a fish out of water. He was, in fact, a fish of water here.

He searched his mind, racking his brain for anything that could explain Sakura's sudden behavior. _Menstruation? _No, Sakura wasn't one to lose her temper over something so trivial. _Drunk? _Again, no. Two glasses of champagne couldn't possibly be enough to topple Sakura Falcone, ex-cocaine and heroine addict. He still had no idea what could possibly be troubling her, and, in fact, didn't know why he cared. He didn't give a fig for anyone in the room. Except her. "Sakura, what-?"

But, for the third time that night, she interrupted him. "Do you want to dance?"

"I'm sorry you're angry but- what?" Sakura was more taxing than a house in Palm Beach.

"Do you want to dance?" she repeated calmly. He didn't recognized the song that was beginning, but he didn't care. No one had ever asked him to dance. In fact, he had never even been danced with.

He blinked several times in disbelief. "Yes."

Sakura smirked and reached for his hand. "Good."

She led him to the dance floor more delicately than he expected, her hand almost frail in his. "Can you dance?" she asked as she pulled him in front of her, expecting him to put his hands in the proper place.

"Oh-," he didn't want to admit his embarrassing secret to her, "Yes, I'm a regular John Travolta." He offered up a smiling, hoping she would recognize the jest.

But her smile widened, showing perfect white teeth. "Fabulous." She put out her arms to him, but he looked into her eyes. She saw something unfamiliar. Fear.

"I was just kidding. I can't dance," he muttered, and he braced himself for a shock of tittering laughter. It never came.

"Bullshit, everyone can dance."

He raised an eyebrow. "Everyone _cannot_ dance."

"Yes, they can, now stop being a baby and let me help you."

Let me help you. He had not heard those words since- since forever. No one had opened themselves to him like she had. Not once, not ever. "Alright," he said slowly, admitting defeat. The song began to melt into lyrics around him.

Then the rainstorm came over me.

She took his hands and place one on her waist, softly holding the other at shoulder height, while sliding her free hand up near his neck. There was nearly a foot and a half between them. "Jon, you'll never be able to dance if you act like your partner has leprosy." She put a slight pressure on his shoulder and pulled him closer, so that their faces were almost touching.

And I felt my spirit break.

"I love this song," she whispered.

I had lost all of my, belief you see.

And realized my mistake.

But time threw a prayer, to me.

And all around me became still.

Jonathan took a shaky breath as he took a step in time with Sakura, her eyes softening, helping him learn. He never knew he needed someone like her. Sakura, on the other hand, never had someone so resourceful and yet so wounded. She had never met someone who needed her.

I need love, love's divine.

The rush of those few, unified steps exhilarated her more than anything she had ever experienced. She wanted more, she prayed for more. Her breathing became less steady, but not because of the dancing.

Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind.

Jonathan watched her closely. He towered over her, his eyes boring into hers. His mind was thoughts of nothing but her. No Scarecrow, no screaming patients, no haunting memories, no toxin waiting to be finished and refined. Nothing but Sakura Falcone.

Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name.

Neither of them, to this day, can agree on who leaned in first. The rising sounds of the haunting the music, the smell of each other, that single memory was lost to both of them in the rush of the moment. All they knew was that a moment later they were in an alcove, panting heavily, his hands tangled in her hair and hers woven together beneath the lapels of his jacket.

Love can help me know my name.

* * *

Phew, that was a long one. I was originally going to cut it at 'Do you want to dance?' but decided that would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Heehee


	17. Chapter XVII

_**The Crane and the Falcon**_

_**Chapter XVII**_

_**

* * *

**_

_"That's why he has me!"_

_**

* * *

**_

He had underestimated her. He, Ra's Al Ghul, had slipped up. This simple _girl_, a Falcone to boot, had thrown a wrench into his plans. And it seemed that she had helped that little weasel of a man Crane grow a spine. But nevertheless, he had underestimated her. She had won the battle, but she was going to lose the war.

The second her fist had sent the second attacker backwards, she was bombarded on all sides by a closing circle of League of Shadows members. They were no picnic, so to speak, and smart enough not to let go of Crane. He hung between them, watching helplessly. He almost felt like a spectator looking in on a violent ballet as he watched Sakura defend herself against the onslaught.

Her gun was not her only weapon. The six-inch knife in her boot was out in a moment and blood spilled onto the cement, covered a second later by a man with a slit jugular. She held the knife in her closed fist and moved her weight to the balls of her feet. "Let's go, boys," she laughed coldly, all thoughts of her surroundings and the circumstances gone. Adrenaline had taken hold. She was out of anyone's control.

The men reached for the machine guns that hung at their hips, anger flaring in their eyes. The quickest one had his gloved finger at the trigger, but Ra's did not intend on witnessing an unfair fight.

"No!" he barked, standing up quickly. The men looked to him quickly, awaiting more orders. "No guns. Make it a fair fight." It took them a moment of hesitation, but the guns fell to the ground.

"Do you guys always follow orders?" she snapped as they advanced. They each pulled a short samurai sword from the sheaths on their back, moving in slow, calculated waves. "Wonderful, you're making me feel right at home," she continued, eyeing the swords both eagerly and warily. She had extensive training in swordplay, but with only a knife on her side, her odds were slim.

The first struck like a viper, but the others hung back. Ra's had demanded a fair fight. They dare not go against their leader. Sakura parried his blow, forcing her knife up so it slid the length of the sword and wedged itself between the blade and the hilt. She struggled for a moment against the crushing strength he was forcing down on her before kneeing him so viciously in the groin even Jonathan winced. He buckled under the pain and she ripped the blade from his hands, decapitating him in the backstroke.

She looked up with a devilish smirk, now a sword was clutching in her hand, bruised from the first punch she threw. She knew she heard her knuckles crack and split. "Next," Sakura purred, glancing momentarily at Crane. He seemed alright. For now. But her mind returned to the task at hand and sank back into the disconnected state it resided in during a fight. She would let her body make all the decisions. Her mind would only cloud her focus and slow, or destroy, her victory. She took care of the third challenger, and fourth. Only one remained, aside from the men stubbornly holding Crane between them.

The last man, lankier, but seemingly more limber, than the others stepped forward, swiping his blade before him. The air seemed to sing as the sharp blade cut the air and Sakura copied his move perfectly, adding a small flourish to the end. The man returned her smirk, before, without warning, leaping at her like a starving dog. They tumbled to the ground, blades clashing and heads butting. He drew first blood and Sakura could feel the gash above her eye begin to sting. Her fingers wrapped around the black hilt and punched him square in the jaw, her reddened knuckles reinforced by the metal. A satisfying thunk greeted her ears, but was paired with a second, sickening crack. Her right hand was now rendered useless and she gasped in pain, resisting the instinct to drop her sword.

He spit blood and a few teeth onto the cement before straightening up. "Not so cocky now, eh?" he said with a Eurasian accent. Sakura moved herself backwards and into a stance she trusted, not rising to his trick of distracting wordplay. "I shall disperse of you quickly."

Jon struggled again against his captors, seeing Sakura was tiring and without her good sword hand, she would inevitably lose. "Sakura-," he choked against a beefy arm that locked around his neck, "No!" With the last word, he pulled his left wrist free of one of the men's grip and jabbed his free fingers into the man holding his neck's eyes. He roared in pain and staggered back, letting go of Crane.

Suddenly, he felt a throbbing pain as a fist collided with his cheek. He slunk to the ground, almost knocked unconscious.

Sakura couldn't help but look back at him over her shoulder with worried eyes. Her mind was returning control to itself. "Jon-!" she whispered, but she never got the words out. She knew the what the bite of cold metal at her neck was a split second before expected contact. She was an inch from death and there was not way of worming out of it.

"Stop!"

Again, Ra's voice made the three conscious League members pause, Sakura's assailant a centimeter from severing her head from her shoulders.

Sakura turned her head precariously, the sharpened metal so close she could smell it. "I see how it is," she muttered, staring Ra's in the eye. "You kill me and you'll have a shitstorm. Mob, Mafia, Yakuzas. You can't take them all on."

Ra's gave her a soft, almost sincere, smile. She was talented, he would give her that much. If only the League trusted women as they did men. She would have been recruited years before if they had known of her skills. "You may prove of use to me in the future, Ms. Falcone. I'll let you live. But I can't have you gallivanting around tonight." Something was concealed in his hand as he stepped down from the truck and approached her. In the dark, neither could see what it was. He nodded to his man, and the blade was taken from Sakura's neck.

"You would have been a powerful ally in the past," he sighed, almost with regret. "Perhaps we'll meet again?" The look in his cold eyes should have been a warning, but still Sakura had no time to react and a puff of white was blown into her mouth and nostrils.

Her mind reeled and her surroundings spun. She heard Jonathan call to her and catch her before she could fall. She felt the ground, cold and wet from assassin blood, felt the vibrations from the retreating League of Shadows as they packed up, leaving their fallen. Then her senses failed. When they returned, her reality was not the same as Crane's.

All he could hear was her screams, all he could see was convulsions of fear wracking her frame as her eyes rolled. He fell to his knees, laying her delicately on the ground, his arms still around her. His eyes were wide and almost hollow as he watched the women he loved be turned inside out by her fears. Time seemed to have stopped and found he couldn't move.

"Let me go!" Sakura screeched, her eyes blazing as she pushed herself out of his grasp. She fell the last six inches to the ground and screamed again when she made contact with cement. "Let me out! Let me go!" she yelled, though there was no one restraining her. Her entire body shook with her sobs and shivers of fear. Her head rolled from side to side and she raised her fists, pounding them on invisible barriers. "I don't _want _to! Don't make me! I won't!"

The psychiatrist in Jonathan was interested, the man in him was heartbroken, and the Scarecrow was hungry. He had never seen a patient react so verbally to the toxin, and her mind seemed to re-enact her fears perfectly without any help from her environment. His mask, should he have ever wanted to use it, would have been pointless with her. Perhaps it was the adrenaline? No, it was her. Her fears were not something on a physical level.

"Sakura," he found life return to his limbs and he knelt closer to her, "Sakura," he repeated, this time in a soft voice. Her head turned so quickly her neck cracked. Her eyes were wide and red from tears. "I can help you. Let me help you."

But Sakura eyes turned to mistrust and she caught him by the throat. Apparently her surroundings did add to her hysteria, noted Jon in his head. "I don't need help from anyone!" she yelled, her voice more desperate than angry. She let him go and lay back, her head twisting back and forth until she pulled herself into a sitting position. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and shook with every sob. Jon reached for her again, but she swatted him away. He rose to his feet and grabbed Sakura's gun, which lay forgotten a few feet away. "Are you a prisoner too?" she said after a moment of silence.

He held the gun awkwardly in his hand, unsure of exactly how to do what must be done. He gripped the gun by the barrel and advanced as quietly as he could. He bit his lip. Everything in side him was warring over what was to be done. "Yes," he muttered, before knocking her out with the butt of the gun.

* * *

Alright, apparently replying to reviews in-chapter is now FORBIDDEN (bum bum bum), I'll have to request that you log-in to review or else I can't reply to what has been said. So, so sorry.

On a different note, I'm expecting two more chapters **for this story, but DON'T WORRY! I'm making this a trilogy or maybe a two-part fic (I'm leaning towards two-part).**

Next chapter: The Opera mentioned in Chap. 2, hehe

Last chapter: More on Sakura and Jon surviving the Narrows, with a run-in with Rachel Dawes and Batman (get your scorecard ready, Blodeuedd!), although, unfortunately, that annoying lawyer hair will already be ripped out by her previous escapades. Dammit.


	18. Chapter XVIII

****

The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XVIII

* * *

This is the final flashback chapter! Yay! I'm not planning on having the flashbacks in later works, so some things I wanted to say can't be gone over. SIGH. But no matter, it was just back story on how Sakura got Dragon and who from.

* * *

"Love can help my know my name."

Jonathan Crane lay awake, staring aimlessly at the stark white ceiling above him. He was still in a state of shock from the events of the night. He glanced at the silver watch on his wrist, one of the few items that still lay on his body. Half past midnight. It had been four hours since his life had changed. They had left the Charity Ball a little after it began, arm in arm and joined at the mouth. Next to him, Sakura had rolled onto her side, her back to him. She was not one for pillow talk or cuddling. Neither of them were.

He had no idea exactly how the two of them had arrived at this point. But it was all a question of control. They had both simply lost it. And Jonathan Crane couldn't help but realize that he liked it. He liked losing control

Her steady breathing stopped suddenly, replaced by short, gasping pants. She shifted in the dark, her brow furrowed and hands clenched. Jon turned his head, his eyes straining against the darkness. He could vaguely see her moving form outlined by lights puncturing the space between the curtains. He put out a hand, meaning to steady her in her nightmares. He barely grazed her skin and she shivered under his touch, but did not wake, too engrossed in her nightmarish memories.

She tossed again, pulling her pillow close and curling herself into a tight fetal position. Next to her, Jonathan hesitated before pulling his hand away. He was not the compassionate sort. He had no words of comfort for a girl frightened by her dreams. When she woke a few minutes later, sitting up sharply, he shut his eyes instinctively, slowing and steadying his breathing. She said nothing, but he could tell she was awake by her ragged breath sounding in the dark. Sakura lay down again, facing the moonlit gap in the curtains. She didn't reach out for him, he didn't say a word, but he stayed awake with her all night.

* * *

The sun poured into the penthouse master bedroom and Jonathan groaned into his pillow, forgetting for a moment where he was. But the softness of the pillow and the scent of the sheets, both unfamiliar, brought him back and he sat up quickly. The space next to him was empty and he instinctively looked his watch. It was 9 A.M., on the button.

A slight sigh turned his gaze to the white carpet in front of the plate glass windows. Sakura sat on the floor, clad in a loose shirt and yoga pants, going through her morning stretches like clockwork. "Good morning," she said, curling her back and stretching her arms above her head.

Jonathan tensed and cleared his throat. "Good morning." His vision was fuzzy and he looked around for his eyeglasses.

"The nightstand," Sakura said without missing a beat.

He looked to the glass nightstand on Sakura's side of the bed and spotted the black frames. "Thanks," he muttered. He wasn't really up on his morning-after conversation subjects. Well, he'd seen movies. He'd try an oldie. "Last night was-," he began, falling over his words.

"Amazing? Wonderful? Unforgettable?" Sakura offered, saying the last with a twinkle in her eye and a smirk. Jon could only nod. She pushed herself off the ground and onto her feet before sitting back down on the bed next to him. "You weren't so bad yourself, Mr. Crane."

Jon wasn't a complete amateur. He knew how to flirt. "What did I say about this 'Mister' business?" he fired back. Sakura replied by grabbing him by the neck and pulling him down on top of herself.

* * *

Their first time had been awkward. Satisfying, but awkward.

The second and third time there were no surprises, and neither had to worry about being self-conscious.

She had been his first.

He had been her first and only.

* * *

"I'll be back late," she said, pulling a tight DKNY shirt over her black bra. "You can have lunch here but you've got to be gone by 1:00. My uncle sends a detail to sweep for surveillance and bombs every Sunday afternoon, and you'd be dead by nightfall if they found you here."

Jon nodded like he understood. The weekly bomb sweep was a little overkill, though. "Where are you going?" He didn't want to sound needy. He was just curious. The doctor began to don the clothes he had worn the night before, waiting for an answer.

She paused at the door, fiddling with her purse. "I've got to get ready for the opera tonight, of course." Then she smirked. "I'm supposed to pick up my dress," she glanced down at her watch, "Oh, about ten minutes ago."

"Isn't the opera at six?" Jonathan buttoned his shirt and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"And you need seven hours to get ready?"

Sakura laughed, "You don't know my family, Jon," she said with a smirk. "And yes," she took a few steps towards him seductively, "The opera _is_ at six." Sakura reached up with expert hands and tied his tie. Hopefully he wouldn't look too conspicuous walking around in a tuxedo at one o'clock in the afternoon. She stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Tell the usher you're my guest." Then she pecked him on the cheek and was out the door.

* * *

The Falcones had reserved all the boxes along the left-side of the theater. Sakura had requested the last box, located just in front of the first balcony. She had convinced her cousin Sofia, Carmine's daughter, not to sit with her this year, but instead to accompany their other cousins. The two girls, as the eldest female Falcone Cousins, usually got their own box. With numerous guards, of course.

The two girls in question, were, at the moment, whispering next to a marble statue, hidden from their gibbering aunts and brooding uncles.

"So, why do you need this box so badly?" Sofia whispered, clutching Sakura's hands.

Sakura sighed and glanced back to the small crowd of Italians. "I have a- a friend joining me tonight."

"A friend? As in a _boy_friend?" her cousin retorted so loudly Sakura clapped a hand over her mouth to quiet her. "Thasuba!" she yelled, her voice muffled through her cousin's hand.

"Sorry," Sakura sighed and removed her hand. "Yes, I mean, I think so," she added with a stutter.

"Sakura!" Sofia repeated, this time at a low whisper. "Who is he? Is it Bruno? Or Mack? I know, it's Larry!"

Sakura pulled a sarcastic face, "Oh yes, I would definitely sleep with a guy called Larry."

"You _slept_ with him? Sakura!"

"Shit," Sakura cursed and bit her lip. Her cousin had a big mouth.

"When my dad finds out, he'll-."

"I know what he'll do! And that's why you can't tell him, or anyone. Understand?" She met her cousin's eyes, pleading with her.

Sofia softened and smiled. "I won't tell, I promise."

"Promise promise?" Sakura raised her eyebrow with a smirk. Sofia was the closest thing she had to a sister. They had many secrets between them. Secrets that warranted a special bond of trust neither would dare break.

"Duh!" Sofia muttered, holding out her hand with a smile.. The girls shook, balled their fists, kissed their thumbs, pressed them together, and then kissed on both cheeks. "Don't worry, Sakura. I'll make sure no one will know."

* * *

The orchestra had almost finished tuning up their instruments until the lights went down. Sakura felt oddly lonesome, sitting in such a familiar place without her cousin, or the guards she had dismissed. The Falcones had been coming to the same opera for fifteen years, and were the only reason the show had lasted as long in Gotham. Her brown eyes watched the scarlet curtain roll up and the music rose. She felt the tears biting at the back of her eyes already. Every year she swore she wouldn't cry, and every year she was sobbing like a baby by the final act.

He stood in the shadows of the box, watching her closely. Jonathan didn't know exactly what possessed him and made him come. Perhaps it was knowing she wanted him there, that she wanted him with her. Whatever it was, he had come. He had even blown off two of his appointments to be there, with her.

"I've never seen this play before."

Her body twitched at his voice and she turned her head, slowly, so she wouldn't ruin the ringlets that hung around her neck. He could see her white smile in the dim light of the theater.

"Well then come and see it," she whispered with a smirk, glancing down at the empty seat next to her. Jonathan emerged from the shadows, still wearing the tux from the night before, and sank into the plush scarlet cushion of the seat.

"You'll have to translate," he muttered, eyes on the stage. "I don't speak Italian."

Sakura smirked. "Of course." She turned back towards the stage and, in a low voice, began repeating their words in English. The song spoke of separated lovers, pining for one another over the vast expanse of the world. They said they would say goodbye to their lives and travel the world over, together.

As she repeated the words, translating for Jonathan, her voice became softer with every verse. The song was lost on his ears, though his eyes were fixed on the stage. His vision blurred and he felt himself lose control of the tight, frigid Doctor he was. He found he didn't care that they were separated from Sakura's guard by only a thin crimson curtain, forgot that simply legions of Mob bosses were sitting in the same room.

He knew that his lack of fear or courage over it was a sign of something more. Jonathan Crane was no hero, no brave knight. So why did he feel so unafraid, so invincible. The answer was simple, really. He loved her. And love gave more strength than muscles could.

"Sakura-," he began, wary at first. She fell silent, knowing what he would say. He didn't need to. She already knew. Women were gifted like that.

"Crane, you need to learn to shut up," she muttered, before kissing him firmly. Sakura would always remember that one time at the opera when she did not cry.

* * *

Alright, one chapter to go! Sweetness.

Next chapter: an antidote for Sakura and a lawyer-beat down


	19. Chapter XVIIII

****

The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XVIII

Sorry about the delay of the last chapter, I was in New York for Wednesday and busy Tuesday. As of now, this fiction will become Part 1 of a trilogy. The second part will take place (chronologically) a little bit after this and the third will be situated more than eighteen years after.

* * *

"Are you a prisoner too?"

* * *

He needed to get her to the Asylum. The original antidote had been confiscated, but he had more in the lab. By some miracle, he found that his wiry arms could hold her for more than a minute, and he set out at a run, praying they met no resistance. He prayed the police hadn't taken the Asylum, or worse yet, that bat character. As he ran, his long legs flying over the uneven pavement, he felt the adrenaline course through his veins and had an inkling of what Sakura felt everyday.

Arkham rose out of the swirl of darkness and smoke, like an ominous cliff on the edge of a tumultuous sea. The inmates had fled from the shadow of the building, their not-so-fond memories of that place pounding behind their crazed eyes. His hand fumbling in his pocket, Crane hastily ripped out a key and jammed it into the lock of a side door, balancing Sakura on his arm and knee. The door opened with a groan of steel hinges to reveal a corridor, lightened only by a broken, flicker ceiling light a few yards away. With a glance to his left and then to his right, Crane sighed heavily and set off in direction of the laboratories. He felt the strain in his muscles, his adrenaline-granted strength waning as he neared his destination. He could see the door, it would only be a moment now. Just a few more feet, a few more feet.

Jonathan dove across the threshold as if his very life depended on this moment. He nearly collapsed from the physical strain, but the power of his mind forced him to lay her on the steel table. The doctor panted heavily, using the table for support as his legs shook from the exertion. But there was no time for recuperation. Sakura needed that antidote. For the first time, she was depending on him for salvation. He could not let her down.

The antidote was waiting and ready, sitting in the humming sub-zero refrigerator. He almost dropped the vial in anxiousness, but managed to successfully fill a syringe with the solution. His hand began to shake as he approached her, the needle clasped in his hand. Her skin gave like soft butter and he injected the solution into her bloodstream carefully before covering the puncture hole with a piece of sterilized gauze. Jonathan held it in place for a moment, applying pressure perfectly until he was sure he had stemmed the flow of blood. Now there was nothing more to do but wait.

* * *

It was a full twenty minutes of thick, nerve-wracking silence before Sakura's eyes flicked open and she gasped loudly. "What-," she choked, breathing heavily, "What- what- what happened?"

Crane was up in a flash, laying a hand on her forearm. "You're alright, just breath."

"I remember Ra's, and they had you," Sakura muttered, her eyes flashing back and forth as she pieced the memory back together, "He sprayed that- that whatever it was-."

"Toxin?"

"Yes, and then-," she stopped short and shuddered, pulling her arm away from Crane. She had shown weakness, in front of the enemy, in front of _him_. The thoughts flooded back, the feeling of vulnerability, the feeling of being cornered and trapped. It was a nightmare she could never escape, like the faces of the men she had killed. "And then I was here," she finished, slowing her breathing. "Did you-?"

"Immunize you?" Crane offered, "Yes. I told you I had more in the lab-."

"How long was I out?" Sakura didn't like long-winded, irrelevant strings of fact when there was work to be done and revenge to be had.

Jonathan glanced at his watch, "No more than half an hour. But we need to leave. The Narrows is ready to tear itself apart, and I don't want to be around when the shit hit's the fan."

"Ra's is still here, Jonathan. You know me, I don't walk away from a fight. I win, or I die," she spat, swinging her legs off the table. "You can go, but I'm staying. I'm not leaving until I've got his head."

He was taken aback by her reaction. "Sakura, be rational-!" he exclaimed, staring down at her.

"I am _not_ a rational person, Crane. It's taken you four months to notice?"

* * *

It was a one-sided fight. Sakura had made up her mind to stay, and over Jon's dead body would he leave her alone. So together, they set out and back onto the wailing streets, the unused gun from Crane's office safe clutched tightly in Sakura's uninjured hand. The other was wrapped in thick gauze and bruises already spotted her knuckles. "We've only got a single round," she sighed, glancing down at the gun. "You take it. I'll need both hands."

The woman passed the gun to Crane and didn't bat an eyelash at his hesitation in receiving the firearm. "I'm not sure that I'm the best person to hold this."

"Shut up and suck it up. Now don't waste the bullets or we'll be dinner for these animals," she muttered in reply, nodding at the inmates prowling the streets. The two were hidden in the shadow of a dank alley that ran the length of the back side of Arkham. "Do you know what Ra's was planning?"

But Jonathan shook his head. "Not much. Only that they would need a high-powered, wide-ranged flash boiler or something along those lines to-."

"A microwave emitter," Sakura whispered, her eyes wide and bold.

Crane's head snapped up, "Yes?" he said warily, "But there are only prototypes, and they're under lock and key."

"Except for one," she sighed in response, running a hand through her hair. "There was a tanker, for Wayne Enterprises. It had one, and it was," she fumbled over the words for a second, "_misplaced_." Jonathan was silent as she began to pace, back and forth, in short strides.

His eyes flashed behind his glasses as his brain processed what had been said. _A microwave emitter. They had one. And they were going to use it. Not for ransom, not for anything._ "We need to get out of here."

"Crane," Sakura warned, not looking at him as she walked.

"Fine," he muttered. _We're both immune. We won't be affected. By the toxin, at least. _"But we're going to need more than a pistol and one round if we're going to live through tonight."

"We'll live," Sakura said with a smirk, remembering the switchblade she always carried. "But not without something to get us where we want fast."

"How'd you get here?"

"Motorcycle. And don't get two excited; it was built for speed and won't hold us both." As she spoke, she thought she heard the clop of hooves on the asphalt. There it was again. A dark horse cantered into the street, policeman still on it's back. But the officer's figure was slack, lying flush against the horse's neck. He was either dead or unconscious. And quite frankly, Sakura didn't care either way. "Can you ride a horse?" she muttered.

"What?" It was quite possibly the farthest thing from Jonathan's mind. But she didn't wait for an answer. Instead she stepped out of the protection of the alley and made a clucking noise with her tongue. The horse stopped short a few feet away, the sound soothing it's ears. She clucked her tongue again, this time changing it to the clicking sound that most trainers used to calm or call their horses.

"Come on," Sakura said in a soft voice, stretching out her hand. The horse hesitated before taking a step forward and then another, now so close to Sakura she could have touched him. It rested its nose against her palm and Sakura smiled, walking around to the policeman. "He's dead," she called back to Jonathan, "You don't have to hide in there all night, either."

A shadow of a smile crossed Sakura's face when she met his eyes, and that single moment confirmed everything to Crane. He would kill for her, die for her, walk through fire to keep her from pain. Without fear, he stepped out from the alley and crossed the sidewalk to stand next to her, the horse, and a dead policeman. An odd conglomerate, no?

Sakura freed the dead man's feet from the tangle stirrups and gave him a push. The corpse slid off the horse's back and onto the ground in a pile of twisted limbs. "You first," she sighed, indicating the saddle. She could tell from the look on his face that he had never so much as seen a horse this close-up, let alone ridden one. "Don't worry, horses don't bite," she lied.

This was one of those singular times when long, lanky legs came in handy, and he clambered into the saddle with less trouble than most first-timers would. "Not bad," Sakura laughed, before placing her foot in the stirrup and hoisting herself up in front of him, "but most people like to use these handy inventions called stirrups."

Before Jonathan could respond with a witty, characteristic retort, Sakura kicked past his own legs and into the horse's sides, setting the animal off at a canter. He didn't notice himself wrapping his hands around her waist, fearing he would fall off and be forgotten. Both physically and metaphorically.

* * *

"The train!" Jonathan muttered suddenly. It all made sense now. The train ran along the water lines, right to the central hub. "They're using the train! The water pipes are carrying the toxin, the emitter will vaporize everything!"

"Well then where the hell are we going?" She turned the horse quickly, heading to the Narrows Train Stop, a few streets away, rising into the air, high above the buildings of the Narrows. But suddenly, when they were only a block away, Sakura pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted.

"Sakura, what are you doing?" he called. This area was teeming with inmates all leering at the residents of the Narrows. He could see the police battling their way through a few streets away. Sakura didn't reply, or care about any of these things. Her eyes were set forward, staring past the orange jumpsuits to a woman and a boy, crouching down, trying to hid. "Sakura, we don't have the time-!" But time had just run out. There was a giant hiss of steam and vapor from above and the high-speed train flew overhead, a cloud of white powder trailing closely behind it. The screams and whimpers started low, and then grew until it was all you could hear.

"It's too late for Ra's," she muttered to him with a small smirk, "But Miss Dawes has been somewhat of a thorn in both of our sides for quite some time." Jonathan could do nothing but watch her from the saddle as she advanced, pushing past the crowd until it was just her and them. "Find Ra's. I can take care of myself!" she called.

At first, Rachel didn't know or care who this person was, standing only a few feet away, but she looked up and caught the mocking grin of Sakura Falcone. Her jaw dropped and she pulled the little boy tighter to her. He had his eyes squeezed shut, his fears streaming all around him. "Falcone!" Rachel yelled, backing up against the wall, crouching over him. She heard the clatter of hooves and saw a horse and shaky rider disappear.

"Good evening, Miss Dawes," Sakura said. She was now no more than two feet in front of her, "I hope I find you well."

"You're behind this, aren't you!" Rachel yelled, pushing the boy behind her. Quicker than a cobra's strike, Sakura had her good hand around Rachel's throat and the young attorney was gasping for air.

"No I am not," Sakura replied, cool as a cucumber, "But tonight does make for such good cover, no? The assistant D.A. stumbles into the Narrows, intent on doing good and righting the world, when a crazed inmate slits her throat." A switchblade flipped open, centimeters from Rachel's face. Her heart began to race and she warily kept her eyes on the blade, pushing her head back against the brick wall. The boy sobbed, clutching Rachel's leg and hiding his face. "But I am not completely heartless. The boy doesn't have to see this." Her eyes left Rachel and she glanced down at the boy, removing her hand from Rachel's throat. Mistake number one.

With all her strength, Rachel head butted Sakura, her height becoming an advantage. Sakura staggered for a moment, and Rachel twisted the knife away. She tried to reach for her taser, but Sakura caught her across the face with a backhanded slap that sent the young lawyer sideways. "I'm ready for a fight, Dawes, but are you?" Sakura yelled, baiting her.

Rachel didn't reply, but instead lashed out with her leg, aiming a kick at Sakura's leg. But Sakura caught Rachel's foot, and, ignoring the throbbing pain of her hand (she was nearly certain it was broken), threw Rachel onto the ground. Rachel picked herself up as quickly as possible, knowing she was dead if she remained on the ground, and tried to back away. "Oh, not scared are you?" Sakura crowed, advancing forward. Without thinking, she lunged forward, punching with her broken hand. Then she realized and tried pull her hand back. Rachel, sensing Sakura's uneasiness, grabbed her hand.

Sakura's eyes widened in pain as Rachel's hand closed over her own, her nails digging through the gauze and into her bruised skin. "Don't like that, do you?" Rachel sneered.

But Sakura wasn't finished yet. Using Rachel's grip on her own hand, ignoring the pain that nearly blinded her, she swung around, using the centrifugal force to throw Rachel into the wall. The lawyer nearly collapsed and her body shook. She saw Sakura stoop and grab the discarded switchblade off the ground and nearly screamed. But, as Sakura brought back her arm to strike, someone caught her at the elbow.

"I told you he'd come!" The little boy murmured, his arms clutching to Rachel's leg again. Rachel visually relaxed and she allowed herself a small smirk.

Batman twisted Sakura's wrist and she dropped the blade to the ground for the second time that night. "I should have known. Miss Dawes doesn't seem to go anywhere without her knight in shining-," she paused and laughed, "Kevlar?"

"Get out of here," Batman growled to Rachel and the boy. They complied and scampered off to God-knows-where. Sakura put her hands on her hips and spun, expecting to see the Batman in all his glory. But instead, she saw nothing but an emptying street. Behind her, she could hear the swish of fabric on the fire-escape and she spun again.

"Running, are we?" she yelled, and Batman paused. Sakura raised a dark eyebrow before picking up the switchblade and, with a flick of her wrist, threw it upward. The metal blade imbedded itself into the brick next to Batman's head and she smirked. "Come now, fight like a man!"

"I am not a man," he replied in a gravelly voice as she soundlessly climbed up the ladder and onto the first landing of the fire-escape. He spotted her, now directly below him, and jumped up onto the third landing. There were only three more to go before he would have to cross the flat roof. He hoped she didn't persist in following him that far. But she did. Like a cat, she followed, springing from one ladder to the next. She paused, pulling the knife from the brick, before spitting out another trick. "You're not a man. You're an ideal!" While she had been teaching Crane how to fend for himself, he had taught her a spot of basic psychiatry.

Above her, Batman paused again, and Sakura continued, inching her way along the wrought iron floor. "You're not a man when wearing that mask!" she said, making sure she was directly below him. "And if you're not a man, you're invincible." Then she drove the knife upwards, between the iron rods and felt the satisfaction of the blade sinking into the bottom of his boot and into his tender flesh.

Bruce Wayne let out a roar of pain and almost sank to his knees, but instead, ripped up his foot, freeing the knife from his shoe. Sakura was up a floor and next to him in a second. "Maybe you are a man," Sakura muttered, giving him an elbow to the face quickly. But it didn't faze him much and he pushed her back against the railing. "Finally!" Sakura exclaimed, kicking out with her leg. Batman dodged her blow and made for the ladder and the next landing. But he was followed closely.

"Pick on someone your own size!" He growled, climbing up the next ladder. He wasn't running from her out of fear; he was running because, for lack of a better explanation, she was a woman. And Batman couldn't find it in himself to fight a woman.

"You never bait short people!" Sakura fired back, her resolve stronger now. He had reached the roof and she followed closely, their steps resounding off the cement roof. "Ever!" She had caught up with him and, in a move her cousins had taught her during a game of soccer, slide tackled him from behind. They both fell to the ground and she managed to get the upper hand as she rolled on top of him.

But he caught her wrists, refusing to exchange blows with her. If anything, this made Sakura more angry and she tried to pull her arms free of his grasp. He let her go and she fell back against the cement barrier that ran the length of one side of the roof. She looked like a baited bear, breathing heavily with fire in her eyes. Sakura screamed in exasperation as she charged at him, anger and rage pouring from her body. It was as if she had run into a brick wall; at least, that's what it felt like as she stumbled backwards. But she wasn't going to give up; it was as if Batman had become her own personal punching bag. She dropped and swung her leg around, kicking his feet out from under him. With a groan, Batman hit the ground again and was slower to rise than Sakura, who was on her feet and ready, hopping from foot to foot like a boxer.

He was getting irritated. He needed to be on the move; Ra's had already begun his assault. She would only slow him down. Sakura struck again, lunging with her good hand, but Batman was two quick for her and caught her arm again. But this time, he fought back, winding her with an elbow to the stomach. "That's more like it," Sakura growled, high-kicking him across the face. Batman responded pressing hard against her chest with an open palm, sending her backwards.

But he had miscalculated; he had not meant to send her stumbling so far. The edge was closer than he had anticipated and Sakura had lost her foot. Time was almost moving in slow motion as she fell backwards towards the ground, seven stories below.

Without hesitation, he surged forward, grapple gun in hand, and dove over the edge after her. The hiss of the gun was followed by the clang of iron as the metal grapple wrapped itself around a horizontal pole. The ground was closing in and his gloved hand gripped her ankle tightly before stopped the extension of the grapple wire. Sakura dangled less than a foot above the street and she stared in disbelief up at what she saw.

Batman had saved her.

The next moment was a blur, but she fell the last foot and toppled onto the asphalt. When she looked up again, Batman was out of sight, but not out of mind. "Thank you," she whispered to the night air.

Her words were drowned by the clatter of hooves and Jonathan Crane, on horseback nonetheless, tore around the corner. Sakura could tell he hadn't fully mastered the reins and the horse wove across the street like an Irishman on St. Patrick's Day. She lay in the middle of the road, and suddenly realized the horse would trample her if she didn't move.

"Jon!" She yelled, getting up off the ground. The horse passed her, but Jonathan yanked back on the leather reins and the horse stopped a few feet past her. He dismounted shakily and jogged back to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, grabbing her wrists. Jonathan glanced down at her hand and touched it gingerly. "Your hand?"

"It's broken, yes," she murmured. "But I'm fine. I'll be fine"

Score one for Batman.

* * *

WOOHOO! _THE CRANE AND THE FALCON _IS OFFICALLY FINISHED! YE-AHH!

Alright everyone, stayed tuned for the next installment entitled _Birds of a Feather_.

!REVIEW!


	20. Author's Note

A quick little **AUTHOR'S NOTE**...

I will be moving all works of fiction (namely, this one) to my other, better username, as having two has become too strenuous for me to keep up with. Please look for all updates/sequels underneath my penname **VICTORIA ELIZABETH.**

**Please do not report the re-postings of this fiction as plagiarism, it is simply me re-posting under a different penname.**

**Because I will be re-posting, all reviews, I'm sorry to say, will be deleted. I know, it hurts me too, but feel free to review once it is up again. **

Thank you so very much for your support concerning the ballad of Jon and Sakura, I hope you'll tune in for more. Expect a sequel chapter before New Year's!

Much love,

Dai Katana


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